


Learn a new language and get a new soul

by Humanity_Sucks2002



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Voldemort Wins, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Gen, Horcruxes, Learning Parseltongue, POV Bellatrix Black Lestrange, Parseltongue, Unhealthy Relationships, pretty dystopic, this is not a good version of events lets be honest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:28:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 34,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28368417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Humanity_Sucks2002/pseuds/Humanity_Sucks2002
Summary: It's been three years since Voldemort won the Second Wizarding War and his reign is solidly cemented. Delphi is talking none stop and Bellatrix asks Voldemort if he will teach her parseltongue, because she often cannot understand what Delphi is saying and it is frustrating to both of them.
Relationships: Bellatrix Black Lestrange & Narcissa Black Malfoy, Bellatrix Black Lestrange & Rabastan Lestrange, Bellatrix Black Lestrange/Rodolphus Lestrange (past), Bellatrix Black Lestrange/Voldemort, Delphi & Bellatrix Black Lestrange, Delphi & Voldemort (Harry Potter)
Comments: 50
Kudos: 48





	1. Request

Bellatrix rapped her knuckles on the door. She tapped lightly, knowing that he would get angry if she knocked too loud. She knew he was sitting just a few feet away. There was no need for excessive noise.

“Enter.”

She twisted the doorknob with a strong grip, but only poked her head around the door. Head and shoulders really.

The office was comfortable, if dreary. Muted colours, dark greys, black and limited greens, filled the room. The furniture was as dark as the walls, and felt better than they looked. It was lit only by the dying fire. The curtains were open. Throughout the day it had been the sun that lit the dull little space, but it was four o clock and the sun had already gone down. It didn't matter to the office’s owner. A side effect of the horcruxes was that he could see much better in the dark than the normal humans. That was not Bellatrix's situation, however, and she had to blink into the darkness to make him out. 

He sat at his chair - which had a high wingback – working through a large stack of papers. Before him lay a mug, that seemed to be half empty, with cold tea sitting within it, and an unlit candle. He looked tired. Irritated. His red eyes were surrounded by dark circles, his posture not as good as usual. As she had popped around the door, he had his head in his hands, reading the parchment below him. He sat up upon her arrival, but she had still seen the moment of weakness. And he knew that she had seen it.

“My lord? Are you busy?” Bellatrix asked. She bowed her head in greeting, testing the waters. She didn't know the mood that the Dark Lord would be in. Typically at this point in the day he would be ill tempered, but how that would present itself varied. He may be bored, and would jump at the chance to do literally anything other than the work that lay before him. Sometimes he would be angry, and determined to finish whatever it was, and he would bark at her to leave him in peace. Bellatrix did not like those days, and they had become more and more frequent. 

Bellatrix thought that it was probably the mundanity of everything right now. The war was over. The Order of the Phoenix had been crushed - with only a few of the most irritating members still at large. There were problems, there always was, but they just seemed so boring compared to troubles of the war. If Bellatrix was a little on edge over it, the Dark Lord certainly was. 

“Yes,” He said, placing the papers down on the paper tray beside him, “but I would prefer not to continue to work through this bill, so come in. Distract me.” He waved a hand, gesturing for her to enter the office. At the same time, he lit the candle. The golden light gave the office a much warmer feel.

“I think I can do that.” Bellatrix smiled. It seemed today was a good day. 

She slid into the room and shut the door, quietly, behind her. Bellatrix then padded over to the couch that was positioned before his desk. The Dark Lord claimed that it was for visitors to sit upon, however barely anyone other than Bellatrix would regularly come to the office. She had a spot she regularly sat on, and his chair was – ever so slightly – angled to face that spot better. Bellatrix crossed her legs at the knee as she sat.

“What’s the bill about?” She asked.

“This is not a distraction, my dear,” The Dark Lord pointed out, hissing the affectionate phrase so far as to make it sound sinister. Bellatrix was not moved by it. “however…” He sighed. “It’s about the Azkaban reform. I didn’t think you’d want to know the details.”

“I might.” She shrugged. “What do they propose changing, my lord?”

“They want to get rid of the dementors – apparently the human guards are striking.” He sounded disgusted, as though he thought that dealing with the disgruntled masses was below him. Why should he be bothered with what the rabble wanted? He was the greatest dark wizard of all time, after all. He had minions to deal with this. Bellatrix thought it was a little funny that he had underestimated how involved with the day to day running of government he would have to be as leader of the country.

“It would be a bit of a workplace hazard, being around them all the time.” Bellatrix nodded, casually. There was no love lost between her and the guards. Or her and the dementors. Both could go to hell.

“Hm, I suppose. Still, I don’t know what they think we are going to do with hundreds of homeless dementors.” He rolled his eyes. The logistical nightmare – even if that nightmare was only theoretical – was clearly playing on his mind.

“Maybe kill them all and get it over with?” Bellatrix could not keep the venom out of her voice. “Nasty creatures.” She spat as though she had swallowed something disagreeable. The Dark Lord smirked at her reaction.

“Agreed.” He nodded. “Not sure that is entirely practical though. They are a nightmare to dispose of.” That was true. Bellatrix had never heard of a way to kill a dementor. And she had looked. She had looked quite extensively.

Perhaps he was going to remove the human guards? That would be easier. It was more his style. A punishment for them speaking up, not just following his orders. He probably would kill the ring leaders of the strike as he did so, to make a statement. One does not challenge the authority of the Dark Lord. 

“Believe me, I know.”

“Enough of that, though.” He leant back in his chair, determined to talk about something else. “What have you done today, Bella?”

“Oh nothing all that interesting. I went to Diagon Alley, did a bit of muggle-hunting, got in a fight with Lucius because he was trying to teach Delphi to play poker…speaking of actually…Delphi has been speaking in parseltongue more and more around me.”

“She is wont to do that – she is four.” She _was_ four. She had been alive for four years. That was wild, to Bellatrix.

Some days, it felt so natural for Bellatrix to take her daughter into her arms, to brush her hair – as wild as her own with all the struggles that came with that – to talk softly, read silly childish things. Blissful. Other times, it felt so terribly unnatural that she could barely believe it was real, that it was her life. It felt like a fever dream.

Now that Delphi was a little bit older, things were better. But, when she was a baby she would cry so often, for seemingly no reason. Bellatrix would find herself worrying about her all the time whilst also wishing she could shout that nothing in her short life could possibly require so many tears. ‘ _Save them for later. Save them for when something truly terrible actually happens._ ’ Logically, Bellatrix knew that was ridiculous, that Delphi had not been crying because she was sad, rather because that had been the only thing that she could do to get her attention. It wasn’t as though a baby could sit up and politely ask to have some milk. Still, sometimes Bellatrix had wanted to scream in frustration, slam the door, leave the house and never return. Clearly, she had not have done that and things were better now. She had found her groove, and was doing pretty well. The one thing that felt off to her now was the parseltongue issue.

“Yes, but I can’t understand her. She keeps chatting on and on and then gets frustrated that I’m not responding.” Bellatrix explained.

“Ah…Yes, that would be frustrating.”

“You know,” Bellatrix spoke coyly, knowing that the request she was about to make would put her on shaky ground, with his mood and all. She decided to phrase it not as a request, but more as a statement. “I heard that you can learn to understand parseltongue, but not learn to speak it.” She had heard that Dumbledore could understand it, but knew better than to mention his name. She was not going to test this miraculous good mood any further than she had to. She wasn’t suicidal.

“Are you trying to ask me to teach you, in a roundabout way?” He raised his eyebrows. Well, he didn’t actually have eyebrows, but he raised the part of his face that would once have housed them. So he had seen straight through her. She wasn't surprised, mildly concerned, but not surprised.

“Yes, my lord.” She nodded.

For a moment, he was silent. Looking her up and down, lips a little pursed as he thought, eyebrows furrowed. Bellatrix’s heart was in her throat, wondering whether the explosion was about to begin once more.

“I think that would be a productive idea.” He said slowly, contemplatively, and she breathed out a little, relieved. “I have never considered teaching the language, before.”

“You were a very good teacher when you taught me the Dark Arts.” Bellatrix said, with a nostalgic smile. It was true, she had always enjoyed those lessons. However, she knew that it would be better to compliment him and butter him up, just in case he flipped again. He did not flip. Instead, he smiled, genuinely for the first time in a while. The constant string of bad moods had left him with a perpetual scowl that Bellatrix (while not remotely surprised about) was beginning into tire of.

“How naturally do languages come to you, Bella?”

“My governess told my parents _‘Bella is not a natural linguist, but she tries’_ when I was about nine. So, there’s that.” She mocked the voice of that long-lost teacher, air quoting her words as she did so. Merlin, she had been so angry when she’d said that. Bellatrix had taken it as a terrible insult. Looking back though, that was actually a compliment of her work ethic, so she was no longer angry.

The Dark Lord was amused by this anecdote and he huffed a little in laughter.

“How reliable was your governess?”

“Reasonably so, but she did have a frankly alarming lack of general knowledge. She was reading us a book about wizarding involvement in the first world war and had no idea what the word _‘conscription’_ meant.”

“Merlin!” The Dark Lord exclaimed, and Bellatrix laughed.

“I know.” She shook her head. “I was eight, I knew what that meant. She was a pretty good governess apart from the random knowledge gaps though.”

“So basically, you’re not that great at learning languages?” He asked, crossing his arms. She nodded, affirmatively, as there was no point pretending anything else. The Dark Lord sighed, and thought for a moment, weighing up the pros and cons of doing this.

“Well, I feel like a challenge.” He smirked, looking like he was genuinely looking forward to it, which pleased the Bellatrix quite a bit. The Dark Lord sighed, and nodded, tapping the top of the table gently with the ends of his fingers as he made a decision. “Alright – I’ll teach you parseltongue. But not tonight, I have to finish this for tomorrow.” He put his hand down on the bill once more, looking so tired. “Saturday, we’ll begin then.”

It was Thursday – two days till the lessons could begin. She could wait two days more.

“Oh, thank you, my lord!” Bellatrix beamed. She pushed her hair back out of her face, and sat a little more comfortably on the couch. She leant back into the pillows and kicked off her shoes, curling her feet up onto the couch with her.

“Come over here for, oh I don’t know, noon? How is that?” It was only the illusion of a question. She wasn’t questioning the judgement of the Dark Lord. Not that she would have disagreed with him anyway.

“Nothing is more important than your time, my lord. Any time you suggest.”

“Good answer Bella.” The Dark Lord nodded approvingly. His face fell for a moment, deep in thought for a moment. “Who is watching Delphi?” He asked suddenly.

This surprised Bellatrix because it was so rare that he would ask after their daughter. He would see her a couple of times a week, which Bellatrix knew that Delphi looked forward to, but Bellatrix was unsure as to what the Dark Lord thought about the situation. She refused to believe that he didn’t care at all. She just wished that he took more of an interest. He was as much to blame for Delphi as she was…well, she didn’t want to say blame, so instead she settled on responsible.

“Narcissa.”

“Ok, good.” He nodded, and the look on his face revealed that, rather than being concerned for Delphi’s safety, he was instead just making sure that Bellatrix would not have to run off back to her house anytime soon. Ah well, Bellatrix thought, better than nothing. “Do you want to play chess?” He asked.

“Of course. Can I be black?”

The Dark Lord flicked the Elder wand casually, causing a wizard’s chess board to float out of the desk draw and position itself on his desk between them. It was a beautiful set. The figures were carved in precious stones. Black in jet. White in quartz. The board was polished and picked up the light from the candle, glowing a warm orange because of it.

“As always.” He nodded, and moved his first pawn. Bellatrix grinned, scooted forwards so that she could play more effectively, and the game began.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This started off with me seeing a bunch of old AF duolingo memes while drunk and thinking that the whole "Spanish or Vanish" thing would be exactly how Voldemort would teach parseltongue. It was going to be a funny one shot - it is no longer a funny one shot.
> 
> The anecdotes about the governess are ripped straight from my school experience - in Y6 our HISTORY teacher didn't know what conscription was and was teaching the lesson about it. Which was worrying.
> 
> I'm going to update once a week because I'm in the middle of exam revision season lol and I won't be able to write as frequently as I did in my last story.
> 
> Also, the title is a Czech Proverb. :)


	2. Interruption

It was a miserable morning that Saturday. Rain fell in droplets so large they hit the ground like shot glasses thrown from the bar by an angry drunk. Bellatrix took one look at the rain when she awoke, shook her head, and decided that she was taking the floo network instead of apparating. No need to go outside with the floo network.

There was just one problem. Bellatrix despised the smell of floo powder: how it irritated her nose, the way she could taste it in the back of her throat, the way it clung to her hair and clothes for hours afterwards. She would not use it unless she absolutely had to. Her eyes flicked from the box of powder to the window, and weighed up whether it was worth the smell not to have to go out in the rain. Looking at the spray coming off the ground as the droplets smashed their way to the tarmac, Bellatrix decided that, yes, it was worth it.

“When will you be back, Bella?” Narcissa asked. She was stood a little behind her, with her arms crossed, leaning on the half wall. As usual, she was dressed quite formally. Her hair was drawn back from her face into a chignon; a string of white pearls hung around her neck elegantly; a plum, velvet wrap dress draped about her frame.

Narcissa was going to watch Delphi, and she seemed less than excited to spend the day with her niece. Not because she didn’t love Delphi, Cissa loved spoiling the girl rotten, and Delphi simply adored her auntie, but she had wanted a quiet weekend with her husband. Bellatrix found herself a little conflicted. She didn’t want to intrude on her sister, but she really had nobody else to watch her. Cissa had become the only option.

Bellatrix would have left her with Rodolphus, but leaving a four-year-old in a mausoleum would not be very responsible. Although, she thought, there was very little she could get up to in there. There was literally nothing Delphi could do. The Le-Strange Vault was quite modern, all the gravestones were flat and smooth. The little room was lit only from a chandelier, far too high up for Delphi to reach. Give her a colouring book and some snacks – she’d be fine. Bellatrix could not believe that she was actually considering it. Stupid idea.

“Not sure, this afternoon sometime.”

“Well, Lucius and I have a table booked at seven, in the Dragonsblood, so be back before then, if you please.” Narcissa said, with a dark tone. The ‘Dragonsblood’ was a very expensive restaurant that had just opened in Diagon Alley. Bellatrix was not surprised that they were going. In the first week it was open no less. Romance isn’t dead.

“Yes Mum.” Bellatrix said sarcastically, rolling her eyes, and only received a tut in response. Narcissa walked away from her: her arms crossed as she left the room. From beyond the wall, Bellatrix heard her ask Delphi if she wanted to do some painting and a happy cheer from the little girl, which she took to be an affirmative.

Bellatrix sighed and took some of the floo powder in hand. She hadn’t used it in years, making it a bit stale, so the smell of the powder was even stronger than usual. Deciding just to get it over with, Bellatrix swore under her breath and stepped into the fireplace. A few, whirling, blinding seconds later, and she was standing in the grate in the Dark Lord’s manor.

He was waiting for her. Sitting in a chair a little away, one ankle resting on his opposite knee. How he had known that she was going to use the floo would remain a mystery. Perhaps he had realised the rain would push her to use it. Perhaps he was just sitting in that room, and it was a coincidence. Either way, he nodded in greeting – quite pleasantly – as she entered the room.

“Morning.”

“Good morning, my lord.” Bellatrix replied jovially, pretending like she was in a better mood than she actually was. “You look chipper.”

“Chipper?” He questioned, and Bellatrix shrugged. Perhaps not the right word choice, she wasn’t sure that he had ever been chipper in his life, but it didn’t really matter. “I am in a good mood.” He conceded. Well, that was a pleasant surprise.

He looked better than he had done the last time she’d seen him. He looked rested, as though he had taken a dreamless sleep potion and fallen unconscious for 72 hours. Bellatrix thought of such a specific example because the best rest she’d ever had was when she had been rescued from Azkaban, and was drugged into restorative sleep. Nothing else had ever compared.

The Dark Lord got to his feet, and announced that they were going to his office. He placed his hand upon her lower back as they walked, ushering her forward. It was a familiar, casual gesture, and Bellatrix couldn’t keep the smile from her face.

“What has put you in such a good mood, my lord?” She asked, as they reached the office door. They paused momentarily as the Dark Lord removed the wards he had placed around his office. It was heavily fortified whenever he wasn’t in it, even though there was nobody else in his house.

“That dreadful bill you walked in on me reading has been resolved, and I admit that I have been looking forward to this little experiment.” The door was thrown open and the Dark Lord strode into the office, Bellatrix quickly following.

“Glad to have helped a little bit with that.” Bellatrix laughed, and flopped down casually onto the couch. She arranged her dress-skirts around her, so that they would look more elegant. She grinned, feeling much better than she had previously, despite the smell of the floo powder lingering in her hair. She flicked the locks over her shoulder.

“Well, I do enjoy you company Bella.”

“Ditto, my lord.” That was one of the biggest understatements that she had ever told. She did not just enjoy his company. Bellatrix adored him, with every fibre of her being. Bellatrix thought that he was magnificent. Truly. Every moment she had in his company was treasured. Especially now, when she was in his company less.

Bellatrix didn’t know what it was that had him seeking her out less frequently as of late. She didn’t know whether she had done something that had annoyed him. She didn’t know whether he had started seeing someone else. She didn’t know whether he had just been really busy. It didn’t matter. No matter the reason, Bellatrix was in his company less than she had been before, and she missed him desperately.

When they actually were together, nothing seemed different. It was the same relationship that they had throughout the years. The conversations they actually managed to have were as fulfilling as they have always been. She was still the clear favourite during the deatheater meetings. The occasional sex was still there, less often than Bellatrix would have wanted but it was happening.

Had he been anyone else, say he had been Rodolphus instead of the Dark Lord, Bellatrix would have just cornered him somewhere and demanded an explanation. She had done that to Rod in the past: he had spent six weeks avoiding her in the mid-seventies, and it had turned out that he had gone on a stag night and had slept with a random woman, and felt guilty about it. The confrontation had solved things immediately, as had Bellatrix laughing at Rodolphus and the tizzy he had got himself into over it. But he was the Dark Lord, and Bellatrix didn’t feel confident to do that. So, she just kept quiet about it.

“Right – shall we begin with a few simple phrases?” The Dark Lord sat down behind his desk, and leaned back. Bellatrix nodded, saying that it would probably be for the best. He rolled his eyes at the dry response but didn’t say anything about it. “Do you think that you can recognise any phrases Delphi regularly uses?”

“She speaks very quickly. I can barely distinguish one word from the other.” In English and in Parseltongue. Chat, chat, chat all the time. Sometimes she was funny, or profound, but she was mostly just babbling about nothing. The Dark Lord nodded, knowing that was true. He thought for a moment, and decided to start off with basic words.

He said the first phrase. There were some incomprehensible hissing noises. Bellatrix blinked, then laughed.

“Yeah, no. Absolutely no clue.” Bellatrix had to admit, and the Dark Lord laughed.

“This is going to be more difficult than I thought.”

“I’m sorry, I really am dreadful at languages.”

“It just takes practise.” He said, slight reassurance in his voice. Bellatrix glowed under his attention. “This will make when you are finally able to get it all the more satisfying for me.”

“I live to satisfy you, my lord.” She said, with a quirked eyebrow and a smirk. He shook his head, affection there that Bellatrix definitely noticed, and grinned.

For several hours, that’s where they sat. Slowly sipping on firewhiskey; Bellatrix making flashcards while the Dark Lord dictated how he would spell each word and what it meant; the Dark Lord saying casual phrases and Bellatrix trying to translate. She was doing ok, the whiskey probably helping (she had read an article once that said that languages were easier when one was mildly intoxicated, and she wasn’t going to argue with the outcome).

They were on to their third glasses when there was a loud knock on the office door. It immediately killed the positivity in the room. Bellatrix sighed, hoping that it was nothing serious. Scowling, the Dark Lord put his glass down heavily on the desk and barked the order:

“Enter.”

The cowering head of the Minister for Magic appeared around the door. Adonis Yaxley. His name was highly ironic – he was no Adonis. He looked much older than he was, never having really bothered with trying to improve his appearance after Azkaban. He was cleaned up, hair clipped and brushed, shaved etc, but he was not fixed his teeth or his nose that had been shattered from many breakages.

“I am so sorry to interrupt, my lord,” Yaxley stammered the apology, looking particularly anxious of whatever it was that he had to say. “But there is a bit of a situation going on at the ministry that requires your attention.”

‘Great’, Bellatrix thought. Of course, there would be, right now. She put her own glass down on the desk then leant back on the couch, with her elbow on the arm of the chair, resting her head on her fingers.

“Is there?” The Dark Lord snapped. Bellatrix wondered whether he was angry over being interrupted or angry that the ministry would dare have a meltdown when he had planned a quiet day. There really was no way to tell with him. “Well then Yaxley, explain. Quickly.”

“There has been an explosion in the ministry atrium, and the Azkaban guards are protesting. It isn’t clear whether the two incidents are connected.”

Bellatrix sat up, bolt upright, genuinely surprised that it was something so serious. She had expected it to be something banal – like a report being delivered or something. She didn’t care for the ministry, and paid as little attention to it as she could get away with. Bellatrix was a warrior, not a politician.

“According to a few eye witnesses that were in the atrium at the time, there seems to have been a sighting of the mudblood fugitive Hermione Granger and the bloodtraitor Neville Longbottom.” Yaxley continued.

“Oh.” Bellatrix was not expecting that. In the last battle, Bellatrix had killed the Weasley daughter but the mudblood and Longbottom had escaped. She thought that they would have been in hiding for longer, it had only been two months. Still, it had been a nightmare hunting for them.

“Right, do you have the fugitives or did you allow them to escape?” The Dark Lord’s voice was venomous.

“Unfortunately, my lord, they were gone before we even knew they were there.”

“Well, isn’t that a disappointment.” The Dark Lord hissed and Yaxley crumpled into himself with how terrified he was. The Dark Lord ignored him, and instead looked to towards Bellatrix.

“Given that you are not incompetent, Bella, I leave this matter in your hands. Deal with it.” He snapped, and Bellatrix was somewhere in between being grateful for the compliment or annoyed that he would choose her to do this mission when there were hundreds of other deatheaters to do so, and they were already doing something. Still, she was going to follow the orders she was given.

“Of course, my lord.” She got to her feet, a little shakily thanks to the whiskey, “I shall get right to it immediately. Yaxley…lead the way.” Bellatrix gestured for him to leave the office and move out into the hallway.

“ _E_ _brietas subsisto_.” She pressed her wand to her head, and cleared it. The intoxication left her immediately, her mind sharp once more. Bellatrix turned back to the Dark Lord as she reached the door, and bowed her head. “I will have a full report ready for you in the morning.”

“Good.” He nodded, a grim expression on his face. “Go.”

~~~~~~~~~~

There was little that could really be done at the ministry. The Granger girl and the Longbottom boy were long gone by the time Bellatrix had arrived, and all that remained was debris, and a few injured people. They had somehow managed not to kill anyone with their little bomb. Injuries were extensive, but none were life threatening. A few weeks in St Mungos and they would all be back to full health. Physically, anyway.

It was determined that it was nothing to do with the strike – the Order had used it as a cover, to give themselves more time as they barked up the wrong tree. That seemed a little slimy to Bellatrix but there was no leg to stand on for her as the Deatheaters had done similar, and much worse, in the first war. All she was interested in was finding Granger and Longbottom, and that wasn’t happening because of this. She was not in a good mood.

There was a lot of clean-up to do, and a few testimonies to take – all of which Bellatrix did with a sharp tone that was about as far from comforting as physically possible. It managed to be both hectic and extremely dull. She had no idea how much time had passed, so she was quite surprised when she apparated into the garden of her house and it was completely dark. Hoping that it wasn’t as late as she had the feeling it was, she ran up the steps and began to try to unlock the door as quietly as possible.

The door flew open immediately, it seemed that she was standing right behind it, revealing an angry, tired Narcissa.

Bellatrix had just returned from a violent, bloody scene. She hadn’t even blinked in shock at seeing it. Just another day on the job. Looking at her baby sister’s seething face, upper lips curled in fury, pupils only pinpricks, had Bellatrix feeling a little afraid. She knew that she could take anything Narcissa threw at her, but, Merlin, she also didn’t want to know what Cissy may be capable of when so angry. She took a little step backwards.

“It is 11pm, where the hell have you been?” Narcissa glared at her older sister, trying (and failing) to hide how completely furious she was. She was stood in the doorway, blocking Bellatrix from being able to enter the house, her fingers clutching the doorframe. Her nails, long and manicured, tapped along the wood, threateningly.

“The Dark Lord needed my assistance Cissy. I’m sorry, I couldn’t get back any sooner.” Bellatrix said, trying to sound apologetic. It didn’t come naturally to her. Narcissa was not impressed.

“Really? Well, you should have tried harder Bella! You need to start taking motherhood more seriously - ” Narcissa spat viciously, her anger rising, her voice joining it. Bellatrix was not going to take that insult lying down, and took a step forward, perfectly ready and willing to get in a brawl with her sister. Her hand was on her wand. Narcissa mirrored her.

“I take being a mother very seriously!” Bellatrix growled. Her eyes were burning.

“Oh yes” Narcissa cried back to her sarcastically. “Because all the best mothers abandon their child for hours on end to go do Merlin knows what! You have no respect for anyone else’s time, do you? Everyone is just a servant to you. Everyone is worth just a bit less than you, right?”

Bellatrix thought it was a bit rich coming from Narcissa of all people, and she rolled her eyes accordingly. In the same instant, she fired a silent knockback jinx directly into her sister’s chest. Narcissa went flying. She was thrown backwards out of the doorframe and hard into the wall opposite the front door, with a surprised shriek. Striding over the threshold of her house, Bellatrix walked over to Narcissa and stood, hands on her hips, looking down at her. She did not light the lamps, and her body blocked the moonlight from hitting Narcissa’s face.

“Cissy there was an attack on the ministry this afternoon! I became slightly preoccupied dealing with the mess the Order left behind.” Bellatrix spat. Then, seeing the shock on Narcissa’s face, she let her voice soften. She couched down, looking Narcissa directly in the eyes as she did so. “I am sorry that I was not back, and I am sorry I didn’t tell you what was happening, but - ”

“There was an attack on the ministry?” Narcissa butted in. Her hand was at her lip – the violence with which she had been thrown backwards had smacked her head into the wall, and cut the thin skin.

“Yes.” Bellatrix nodded. “There was a bomb. I can’t go into details but…” She trailed off, looking at Narcissa’s bleeding lip. “Dammit…” She sighed. “I’ll get you another reservation. And I’ll pay. How’s that?”

Narcissa’s eyebrow quirked, clearly considering the offer.

“Will there be a spending limit?” She asked, slyly.

“No.” Bellatrix laughed a little. “But don’t clean me out.”

“It would be impossible to do that in one evening.”

“Do we have a deal, Cissy?”

“Yes, fine.” Narcissa sighed, and offered Bellatrix her hand, to help her stand back up again. She did. Narcissa wrapped her hand around Bellatrix’s elbow and grunted, uncharacteristically undignified, as she was pulled to her feet. “Glad that you’re ok.” She muttered, pulling Bellatrix into a tight hug, before letting her go again just as quickly.

“Cheers. Sorry about the lip.”

“We both know you’re not.” Narcissa shook her head. Before Bellatrix got the chance to, Narcissa had healed her wound herself, and put her wand away. Narcissa was correct, so Bellatrix didn’t bother to argue.

“I’m famished, did you eat all my food?” She said instead, letting go of Narcissa and heading off in the direction of her kitchen. She would eat and write up the report she owed the Dark Lord.

“No. I wouldn’t go anywhere near your kitchen, for fear of contracting some disease.” Narcissa shouted to her, disgust in her tone, although Bella could no longer see her, as she had moved away from the door.

“Just because I don’t have a house elf doesn’t mean it’s not clean.” Bellatrix shouted back. She refused to get one. Didn’t trust the creepy little buggars, they were easily corruptible creatures. After seeing the swarm of them fighting for the Order in the battle of Hogwarts, her opinion of the creatures was cemented. She would not have one in her house.

“Sure.” Narcissa did not sound convinced. “I think I’ve wasted enough of my time in this house. I’m going home. Try to get some sleep, my dear.”

“I will.” Bellatrix lied. “See you soon, Cissy.” She cried out, and heard the door shut in response.

And, once again, she was alone.


	3. Incompetent

“Was it…Wednesday?”

“No Bellatrix.”

“Thursday?” Bellatrix asked, already knowing that she had gotten the answer wrong. Her suspicions were confirmed by the Dark Lord, who looked at her over the book he was reading with a look of pure distain.

“It was not a day of the week.” He said, darkly.

“…um…um…was it a greeting?” Apparently it was not. He put the book down hard on the desk. It made quite a loud banging noise as it hit the polished wood. Had Bellatrix not been someone used to battle, she would have jumped. She’d been jumpy as a child, easily startled, but she’d soon trained herself out of it when she became a warrior.

“Have you been practising at all?” The Dark Lord demanded.

No. No she had not. But in her defence, she had been very busy. There was a stomach-bug going around, Delphi had caught it and had spent the week vomiting up everywhere. Then Bellatrix herself had gotten ill and, while she had not been nearly as bad, it had not been fun for anyone involved.

“Of course, I have!” She lied, and hoped to any entity that may be in control of the universe that he could not see through her occlumency shields at that moment. She wasn’t sure that they would help her, if they indeed existed. No matter how noble the cause, rampant murder probably would never be considered moral. Bellatrix had never cared for morals – but help from a higher power would be helpful sometimes.

She did not like to lie to the Dark Lord: it felt like blasphemy in itself. However, this was not something serious, and the knowledge of his disappointment would hurt her more.

“Not very well it seems.” The sneer felt like a slap. “If I wanted someone to waste my time, I would have had a conversation with Malfoy.”

“I will double my efforts, my lord.” She promised.

“You’d better – given that this was your idea.” He gestured towards her with an extended palm. Then he sighed, and pressed his head into his hands. “You have a parselmouth living in your house – get Delphi to test you.” Exacerbation was evident in his voice.

“She’s four, my lord.” And currently sleeping off the fever the bug had caused, not that he cared about that because he hadn’t been to see her while she was sick. Even though Bellatrix had asked. He had been too busy apparently.

“She can talk, and follow basic instructions. Unlike you, it seems.”

“I’m sorry, my lord.” Bellatrix said, quietly, looking down at her hands. Knowing that he was disappointed in her, she felt sick. Her stomach felt like it had been beaten and bruised, breathing felt constricted and painful as she fought back tears.

He ignored her, his eyes returning to the book. It was a large, leather-bound volume, with gold inlay on the lettering and along the pages. The book was in Russian, a language Bellatrix could not speak, or read, so she had no idea what the book was about. Certainly, it was a book of dark magic. The leather looked odd to Bellatrix, and she had a sneaking suspicion that it may be human.

They sat in uncomfortable silence for a few seconds. Painful seconds.

“Shall we try another word, Bella?” His voice was steel. She nodded, not looking up at him. Instead, she dragged the tip of her boot across the bumps of the plaited rug. He spoke again, in parseltongue. Bellatrix did recognise this one, and she smiled a little.

“Hello, you said hello.”

“Good.” His voice grew quieter as he muttered: “Not like it is a difficult word, but good enough.”

Bellatrix did not appreciate the passive-aggressiveness. He had been acting as such all day: there had been a meeting that morning and he had been so much more of a dick than usual that everyone had noticed. Avery got on the wrong side of him because he had dared to question the Dark Lord’s judgement on the Order situation. Avery believed they should be ignored, the Dark Lord did not, so Avery left having been…persuaded otherwise.

“Forgive me, my lord, but you seem a bit stressed, are you alright?” She asked, thinking that he may have been involved with something at the ministry. That may explain it. Minister Yaxley was not at the meeting earlier – perhaps there had been an incident. Still, she hoped that he would just tell her if something was wrong. He usually did.

“Irritation at your inadequacy is not the same as stress Bellatrix.” He spat, cruelly, and she regretted speaking up about it, and ducked her head down. “Shall we continue?” He asked, but it was not a question. Bellatrix nodded, and he spoke again, the hissing of the parseltongue sounding much angrier than usual.

Bellatrix had absolutely no idea what he said, not one clue, however…she could take an educated guess.

“You said that I was incompetent in parseltongue.”

The look on his face said enough. She had got it right. It seemed to surprise him that she had actually worked it out.

“How did you…?” He began, but boldly, Bellatrix cut him off.

“Context clues, my lord.” It seemed that incompetent had become his favourite word as of late. To be fair, Bellatrix liked it too, and a lot of his followers (particularly at the ministry) definitely fit the word. There was just something about the bureaucracy and the simpering for the Dark Lord’s good graces that combined to make the worst form of person. But still, it’s over-use was getting old. She could not help but think of Delphi, when she had first learned the word ‘no’ – and a whole new world of possibilities had opened up to her.

He huffed a little laugh, and sounded a tiniest-bit more reasonable when he said:

“See, eventually you will know that from actually understanding what I’m saying.”

“That is the plan.” Her response came out very dry and she immediately regretted it. The faint glimmer of jovialness left the building. The Dark Lord scowled at her.

“If you are trying to annoy me Bellatrix, you are succeeding.”

“Sorry, my lord, I really am not trying to.” She had never tried to. Bellatrix had only ever wanted to please him, live up to the moniker of ‘best lieutenant’. He had called her that once, off-handedly, and Bellatrix had truly taken it to heart, and worn the compliment like a badge of honour. She hadn’t changed her behaviour since then, but he had, and Bellatrix was at a loss as to why.

“Yes, well, try a bit harder.” The Dark Lord sneered. “Delphi can manage not to be annoying and she’s about a twelfth of your age.” Had he done the maths on that? Because if he had then Bellatrix had to wonder if he’d been planning that little barb for a while. She was very close to snapping at him that he spent only a couple of hours with her a week, rather than all the time, so how the hell would he know, but she didn’t. That wouldn’t help matters for anyone.

“On another note,” the Dark Lord continued, sounding a little less irritated as he did so, “you will be summoned for a mission within the next couple of days, so keep alert.”

“Have you found the last of the Order, my lord?” Bellatrix asked, confused as to why such good news would put him in such a grump.

“I believe so,” he nodded, “but it is yet to be confirmed, so be ready.” He sounded so tired as he said that, like he had pulled himself out of a grave to speak to her. He had his hand pressed to his forehead, elbow on the desk, leaning against it as if it was the only support keeping him from falling. Had anyone else been sitting on that couch, in the office he normally kept frigid, but he had put another log on the fire for her, he would not be so open with his body language. He would have been sat up, perfect posture, possibly a charm on his face to hide the dark rims around his eyes. Nobody else could know that the Dark Lord felt things like tiredness.

It gave Bellatrix hope that, if he was still being open with her, perhaps he didn’t want her gone from his life. Perhaps it was just stress that was making him an asshole.

“I look forward to it.” She said, a quirk of a smile on her lips.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bellatrix was in the shower when she felt her dark mark burn.

It was a week after their tense little parseltongue lesson. There had been no more lessons since then, but there had been a couple of meetings called with no warning, it seemed that Longbottom and Granger were choosing now to be as destructive as possible. Bellatrix had been practising her parseltongue comprehension all that time, however. She had found it difficult, both to learn and to find the time, but it was slowly improving. She found herself able to pick up a few words that Delphi said: not enough to understand fully what she was saying, but enough to get the gist…sometimes…on occasion…rarely…

Delphi, feeling much better, had gone over to her friend’s house the night before. Eliza Selwyn was an idiot. Bellatrix herself had some stupid friends as a child, but she could not see any reason that Delphi would like the girl. Airheaded, spoiled, cried all the damn time: Eliza was insufferable. But this invitation meant that Delphi was out of the house, and that gave Bellatrix the opportunity to go let some of her frustration out. She blew up a muggle oil rig in the North Sea. She could still feel the electricity from casting the fiendfyre curse bubbling in her veins.

All those thoughts were gone however when, as she was busy washing the sea salt out her hair, the searing pain of the dark mark shot through her arm. It caused her a considerable amount of surprise, and, in that instant, she managed to get soap in her eyes. It stung. Swearing loudly, she fumbled around trying to turn the water off. Her hand landed on the shower valve and – because she hadn’t gotten around to refurbishing the upstairs bathroom yet – the old plumbing had made the metal valve unreasonably hot. The burn on the palm of her hand made the swearing even worse. 

It was a mad dash to wash out her eyes, dry her hair and get dressed. The Dark Lord expected everyone within a minute or two of him calling. It took longer than that, and she was fretting.

Bellatrix prided herself on being the first one to respond to his call. It had become a bit of a joke among the deatheaters that she was always there when everyone else arrived. She remembered Rodolphus saying once that, if he arrived to a meeting and she wasn’t there he would just assume that she was dead. It was a ridiculous statement, she had missed meetings before for various reasons, but that hadn’t stopped her from being entertained by the idea.

“You’re late Bella.” The Dark Lord’s voice was cold, snakelike, displeased as she apparated into the meeting room.

Bellatrix apologised profusely as she hurried over to her normal seat next to him, beside the fireplace. The contrast between the light, airy bathroom she had just been in and the room was extreme. All the curtains were completely drawn, the only light in the room came from the roaring – green – fire. 

There was a small group of masked deatheaters sat around the Dark Lord, clearly ready for battle. Despite their masks, Bellatrix recognised most of them. Corban Yaxley was closest to the door, fiddling with the buttons on his waistcoat. Lucius Malfoy sat staring at the table, not making eye contact with anyone and generally just looking sorry for himself. Alecto Carrow was sharpening a dagger. Fenrir Greyback was also in attendance, but he, not being a real deatheater, did not have a mask.

Rabastian Le-Strange (her ex-brother-in-law) was sat nearest to the Dark Lord, in the seat across the table from her own. His grey hair was messy, slicked backwards over the top of his head to try to hide the spot where he was beginning to bald. He looked like Rod, uncomfortably actually. It wasn’t his fault of course, that didn’t mean that his face didn’t unnerve her a little. She was glad his it was covered.

He nodded in silent greeting. Bellatrix reciprocated – she did like Rabastian, he had been a good friend to her over the years. Such a pity that he was so busy – the Muggleborn registration office was under his control and the man seemed to have exactly zero free time. It seemed to be a recurring thread between everyone, at the moment.

As she arrived, Bellatrix summoned her own mask from out of the aether. Her wearing it meant little, it hadn’t ever been very useful. Bellatrix had always stood out among the Dark Lord’s followers: mask or no mask, nobody was confused over the identity of the woman with the dark hair, and prodigious skill. Still, everyone else was masked, so she did as they did.

“Now that everyone is here,” the Dark Lord hissed, shooting Bellatrix a look that held the fury of a killing curse. She bowed her head, not daring to look at his face, let alone his eyes. “We can begin. Intelligence has indicated that house,” he pointed to the map he had laid on the table top. The structure he spoke of appeared magically as it looked in the flesh, but miniaturised on the map. It was a small, stone building, nearly completely covered in ivy, “is the current base for the remanence of the Order of the Phoenix. It is an abandoned fisherman's cottage on the Isle of Iona, it's name is Icolmkill cottage. It's closest neighbour is an abbey - it is probably closed now, given the time, but be aware. If any muggles come to investigate, kill them.”

There was a pleased mumble that went around the table. Bellatrix sat up straighter, in awe of his power once again, and ready to fight. She was already buzzing from the destruction she had wrought on the oil rig: this adrenaline was a beating drum, reading her for war.

“The intelligence we have currently says that there are six people currently living there – the mudbloods Hermione Granger and Dean Thomas; the bloodtraitors Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood; the halfbreed Hagrid, and Horace Slughorn. Kill the rest of them, but bring Slughorn to me.” The Dark Lord barked his orders. Nodding, the mumble around the table was positive, as everyone took note of the orders. 

“Right – go. And try not to get yourselves killed by these weak fools.” He snapped. That sent everyone flying. Each deatheater apparated away, filling the room with pops and cracks as they did so. Bellatrix turned to leave, pulling her wand out, ready to apparate.

“That goes especially for you Bella.” The Dark Lord said to her, before she left. It came out casually, but there was an urgency in his eyes. Bellatrix grinned.

“I’ll be fine, my lord. I’ll see you later.” She said, and she apparated away.


	4. Destruction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW - Deatheater violence/loss of limbs/death

It was pretty windy on the beach that Bellatrix found herself on. That was to be expected, of course. It’s not like the Inner Hebrides were known for being a calm place, weather-wise. Iona was mostly treeless, as it was regularly too windy for them to grow.

Iona really was one of the most beautiful places in Britain. Its beaches looked like they were taken out of a postcard of the Caribbean (the water however, was far colder). A tiny, stone town was in the middle of the island, on the quey. There was no bridge to the Isle of Mull - Iona was a small island off the coast of another island - so the muggles had to get a ferry. It was a small expanse of water between Mull and Iona: the ferry took about ten minutes to cross. Apperation really was a godsend in this case.

The island was peppered with Celtic Christian sanctuaries. According to the legend, it was the place that the Irish Saint Columba came to Scotland and was the jumping off point for Christianity’s spread into mainland Britain. Bellatrix supposed that this island was to blame for a lot of the witch trails throughout history, but it was hard to be angry at such a beautiful place. It was the people, not the place, that did that. Perhaps at a later date she’d go pay the Abbey a visit. She would enjoy that, immensely. 

The Deatheaters apparated a little away from the house the Dark Lord had directed them to. It was up a sandbank, its windows facing in the opposite direction to them. Bellatrix took the opportunity to place a quick disillusement charm on herself, and her companions followed suit.

The lights were on, there was smoke rising from the chimney. Good: they were at home. Her eyes scanned the windows and doors, looking for the easiest entrance point. These kinds of houses, the stone hovels that had been built in the Highlands by people starved by their landlords, had usually only one door, at the front, and often few windows. This building however had been renovated. Windows had been widened, the roof had those muggle ‘solar panels’, and a large glass conservatory had been added to the back.

“Bellatrix,” Alecto Carrow apparated next to her, and whispered her name softly. Bellatrix turned to face her, taking in her silvery, patchwork mask. Its nose was a bit upturned and snoutlike. It wasn’t the most aesthetically pleasing – Bellatrix believed that her own mask was far superior. “Which way are you going in?” Alecto asked.

“You, Malfoy and Fenrir go around the back, I’ll take the front with Yaxley and Rabastian.” Bellatrix ordered. Her authority was clear among the deatheaters – they all knew that they ranked below her.

“Ok – see you in there.” Alecto nodded, and gestured for Malfoy and Fenrir to follow her around the back of the house. The small group, walking silently, followed Alecto and disappeared around the wall.

“You remember the Dark Lord’s orders?” Bellatrix turned to her team, and received hurried nods from Yaxley and Rabastian. _Kill the others, bring Slughorn alive._ They both repeated it, sounding like a chanted curse. Rabastian was readying himself, jumping from one foot to the other. He always did this, he said it was to get his blood pumping. Yaxley was still, a statue on the windy beach. “Alright then. Don’t die.” Bellatrix said. 

They stalked their way up the sandbank like greyhounds coursing hares. They were fast, effectively silent, and of one mind. They were, however, forced to stop when they reached the garden wall.

The wards around the house were weaker than Bellatrix had expected. They were very haphazard, as if they had been thrown up quickly and not checked since. That seemed very likely, in Bellatrix’s opinion. Whether it was that they were too busy to check them, or too arrogant to think that anything could be wrong with them, it didn’t matter. The end result was the same. It took Bellatrix less than thirty seconds to have completely stripped the house of the protections it had been shrouded in.

The wards revealed more. She heard music playing from within the house; she smelled someone cooking; she saw shadows through the pulled close blinds. Bellatrix moved her head slightly, looking to Yaxley and Rabastian, making sure that they were following her. They nodded to her, the wind whistling between them, and Bellatrix grinned beneath her mask.

“Diffindo!” The windows shattered immediately. Confused shouts, and realisations reached them, as Bellatrix and the others climbed in through the windows. All of the Order was sat in the little kitchen-diner.

Granger and Slughorn had been sitting together at the dining-table, both of them reading. Slughorn had that morning’s paper, Granger had a book on the History of Wizard/Goblin relations. Hagrid had been cooking, a pink and purple pinny around his waist. Dean Thomas, Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom were playing gobstones. The look of horror and fear on everyone’s faces as the Deatheaters entered the premises gave Bellatrix a high.

“Stupefy!” Lovegood was the first to get to her wand, sending the spell firing into Yaxley. Lovegood had aimed for Bellatrix but she had ducked.

“Crucio!” Bellatrix knocked the girl backwards into the cabinet filled with plates and cups. She would have wanted to hold the curse for a while – despite how fragile the girl looked Luna Lovegood was a formidable dueller, one who needed to be kept out of the fight – Bellatrix had other people to take down.

Hagrid screamed as Alecto and Lucius cornered him, curses flying as they tried to take him down. Him being a half-giant, his body was stronger than that of other wizards. Lucius was thrown backwards unexpectantly when Granger jumped to the rescue of her old teacher. Lucius’ head was smashed into the handle of the refrigerator, knocking him out cold.

“Well done Lucius.” Bellatrix thought, rolling her eyes.

Spells richocetted around her, the air filled with magic and voices. The voices blended together, making it difficult to distinguish how was saying what.

“Furnunculus!” Someone screamed.

“Incarcarous!” Another voice, to the left-hand side of her.

“Confringo!”

“Impedimenta!”

Dean and Neville looked stunned for a moment, frozen. Someone screamed for them to run, Bellatrix was pretty sure it was Granger but she wasn’t looking at her, and Dean and Neville followed her orders. Neville went first, springing towards the smashed window, with Dean firing curses as a cover for his friend. Brave but stupid, Bellatrix thought.

“Avada Kedavra!” She screamed, the first killing curse to be uttered that evening.

“NO!”

Whoever screamed that were unable to save him. The killing curse is unblockable, and it ripped through the air with the roar of a passing train, colliding with Dean’s body. He fell backwards onto Neville’s legs as his life left him. Neville screamed as he did so, shuffling out of the window much quicker. Whilst annoyed that Neville had escaped, Bellatrix cackled, kicking the corpse with the end of her boot.

This murder and disrespect for the dead was not taken very well by the Order.

“Sectumsempra!” Slughorn dared to utter, to Bellatrix’s surprise, but she managed to block the curse. She jumped out of the way of a killing curse Granger fired in her vague direction – the girl didn’t bother to aim – before rolling straight into her next spell.

“Petrificus Totalus” Bellatrix fired the curse towards Slughorn, keeping her old teacher frozen in place, watching his colleagues falling around him. The Dark Lord wanted him alive, and alive he would have him.

From behind her there was a terrible scream, as Carrow dropped to her knees in pain. Lovegood stood over her, a silent, dark curse on her lips as the magic cut through Carrow's flesh. The lower part of Carrow’s arm fell to the floor with a hard, wet clunk. She pressed her body up against the wall, clutching at her stump where her arm had just been. The wound was a faucet, blood poured between her fingers.

Bellatrix sighed: she knew Lovegood would be a problem. In an attempt to rectify this, Bellatrix sent a killing curse in Lovegood’s direction. Luna apparated before it could hit, and instead the curse flew into the kitchen cabinet and set the wood on fire.

“Avada Kedavra!” Granger shouted, aiming at Bellatrix but missing. It amused Bellatrix that all their fluffy morals had dissolved more and more as the war continued: when Dumbledore or Potter was still alive there was no thinking that the Order would use unforgivable curses. Mad Eye Moody had gotten into terrible trouble with Dumbledore for using the crutiatus curse on Bellatrix herself in the first war. But both of them were gone now, and Granger had more of a practical attitude about the Unforgivables.

Bellatrix wanted to kill her. The mudblood Granger had been an irritant for years. Pure luck had kept her alive so far, and Bellatrix thought it was high time that said luck ran out.

It was for this reason that Bellatrix kicked Rabastian, and told him to guard Slughorn's inanimate body. Sheilding herself from the collapsing wall, as Hagrid was fighting back now, Bellatrix perused her prey. Granger had climbed out of the same window Longbottom had, and was pulling at her companion to get up and run. Poor boy was in shock, his dark eyes wide and wet with tears. Seeing Bellatrix following them seemed to rouse him, however.

"HERMIONE WATCH OUT!" He screamed, sending a diffindo curse in Bellatrix's direction. It was a strong one, powerful. If Bellatrix had given a damn, she would have found it a shame that he was so insecure about his abilities. Longbottom could be formidable with the right training. She blocked his curse easily, sending a crucio right back.

As Longbottom lay screaming, the force of Bellatrix’s crucio enveloping him like a boiling bath, she was thrown forth into a duel with Granger. This was mildly unfortunate, as Bellatrix was not out of the window yet, and her legs were still in the kitchen. Her dress had gotten caught on the shattered glass, and it took a hard tug to release herself.

Granger sent several spells, some of them out of a duelling club, others far darker, in Bellatrix’s direction but she was able to block them all.

“AVADA KE-” Bellatrix began to scream, ready, oh so ready to end Granger’s life once and for all. She was so ready. The blood in her vein’s was electric. The thump of blood in her ears was deafening, as she anticipated the kill.

But Granger grabbed Longbottom’s sleave, and apparated away. Poof. Gone into the afternoon clouds.

Free now, stomping around on the muddy grass, screaming in rage, Bellatrix fired several curses into the ground. Sand and earth exploded around her, raining down as she cried out for them to come back and die like Gryffindors. She heard a scream from inside, another killing curse, a wave of smashing furniture, but Bellatrix didn’t care. At that point, the others didn’t matter, all that mattered was that she’d failed to kill them.

“Morsmordre!” Bellatrix screamed the Dark Mark, tattooing it on the sky above the cottage.

“Bellatrix – they’re gone.” Rabastian said, breaking her concentration. The mask was off, clutched in his fingers and, for a moment, Bellatrix thought she was looking at Rodolphus. That momentary confusion made her angrier. He was stood in the doorway of the house, leaning against the obliterated door.

“Yes!” She snapped. “I am aware!” She pointed to the obliterated field around her.

“No – they’ve all gone.” He said, with a sigh. “Can you grab Slughorn’s legs while we apperate?”

“Yes.” Bellatrix put her wand in her belt once more. “What’s the damage?”

“Carrow has been dismembered and Yaxley is dead.” Rabastian sniffed, and rubbed is glove against the end of his nose. “But Thomas and Hagrid are also dead, and we have Slughorn, so it’s a win I guess.” He shrugged, moving out of the way from the door before Bellatrix could shove him out of the way.

“You mean that ** _I_** got Slughorn?” She snapped, re-entering the room. It was destroyed. Littered with bodies and brick. Where Hagrid had fallen, he had smashed through the wall, leaving the room far more open to the sea air. Mortar floated in the air. Carrow’s arm lay in the dust, as she tried to reattach it. Her wand shook too much for the spell to work.

“Fenrir, get Carrow and Lucius to St. Mungos. Rabastian, grab Yaxley. I’ll get Slughorn.” Bellatrix ordered, hands on her hips. At least, she thought, looking at Slughorn laying immobilised on the dirty stone, their main objective had been fulfilled. 

~~~~~~~~~~

“Oh Bella! Well done!” The Dark Lord announced, a grin on his face, seeing Slughorn bleeding at Bellatrix’s feet. She put her boot on Slughorn’s shoulder, shoving him to the ground violently. He landed on his hands, grunting as the force of the push knocked the air out of his lungs.

The Dark Lord stepped forwards, his black robes billowing around him. His eyes moved between Bellatrix – looking incredibly pleased with her – and Slughorn. The look there was hard to describe, somewhere between hungry, sadistic and disgusted. While Bellatrix’s boot still pressed down on her old teacher’s back, moving from the shoulders to between the shoulder blades, the Dark Lord flicked his wand. It forced Slughorn’s head upwards, to look at him directly, with a powerful spell.

“Well, look at you now, Professor. You have been called many things, but I would never have called you a fool.” The Dark Lord sneered. Bellatrix snickered, providing a chorus for him. He looked up at her, nodding slightly, before his eyes returned to Slughorn.

There was a moment of tense silence, where neither Bellatrix or Slughorn knew what he was going to do. It was brief. Moving like a snapping spring, the Dark Lord slapped Slughorn hard across the face. It left his cheek pink and raw. Slughorn’s moustache quivered in shock: it seemed that he had been expecting a spell, and had steeled himself for such, so physical violence had caught him by surprise.

“Tom please.” Slughorn cried out, desperately.

Oh Merlin, Bellatrix thought. Slughorn was dead. The Dark Lord was going to kill him for that outburst alone. And he deserved it. He deserved every ounce of pain he received for the disrespect of the Dark Lord. The gasp she let out upon hearing the blasphemous name was completely involuntary.

The Dark Lord sent a silent knockback jinx flying towards the old man, cracking his nose badly. Blood sprinkled everywhere. There was a crunch, and a stifled sob from Slughorn as he fell to the floor, his arms giving out under him. The Dark Lord spat that Slughorn would pay for that remark, then silenced him.

“Now, my dear,” The Dark Lord stepped over the quivering body of his old teacher, focusing his attention fully on Bellatrix. His voice grew much kinder, more congratulatory as he did so. “you have done brilliantly today.” He placed his hands on her arms, just below her shoulders. He was much taller than Bellatrix, and held her at arm’s length looking down at her with a dark smile.

“It’s all for you, my lord.” Bellatrix breathed, her eyes wide looking up at him in adoration. He seemed pleased by this. He always enjoyed her devotion to him.

“mm. Le-Strange,” He barked, suddenly, and Rabastian jumped forward. “take the professor downstairs. Make sure he is…comfortable.” The Dark Lord ordered, not taking his eyes off Bellatrix for a moment. She took a little step forward, closing the gap between them a little bit more.

“Yes, sir.” Rabastian nodded, and threw a body-binding jinx on the poor man, making it easier to drag him away. He was a background noise, of clunks and grunts as he escorted the frozen body of Slughorn from the room. Bellatrix didn’t hear him. She was so close to the Dark Lord now, inches, the only thing between them being a few layers of fabric. 

“Now,” the Dark Lord said, softly, as Rabastian shut the door behind him. “Bella, let’s have a drink – as a celebration.”

Bellatrix nodded vehemently, causing the Dark Lord to chuckle a little bit. He let go of her arms and moved to escort her upstairs. There was a sitting room up there, within his personal apartments, with a small liquor cabinet in the corner.

“Have you got gin?” she asked, knowing that he did, it was the most common alcohol he drank. She’d never really drank it before meeting him. Her mother had called it a filthy common drink, something poor people drank to escape the sadness of their lives. The Dark Lord liked it, so she had tried it and had to admit that her mother was full of shit, on that account.

“Plenty.” The Dark Lord nodded, offering her his arm. She accepted it, of course she did, and leant into his touch with a small smile. He seemed like stone so much of the time, but actually being able to touch him showed that it was not the case. He was human. She could feel the warmth of his skin though his robes.

“Oh lovely.” She said, softly, and off they went.

The Dark Lord personal apartments were lavishly decorated. The ceilings, like the rest of the house, were high and decorated with many geometric patterns and gold. Whether that gold was real or not was up for debate. It probably was given the age of the ceilings, and the fact that the Dark Lord lived there, but one could never be sure. The colours were muted and fashionable, the sitting room small but functional and the bath was deep and wide. The apartment was filled with his personal belongings but in the same time didn’t feel like it was actually his house. It was like a hotel that was being lived in. But Bellatrix did not care about that for the moment.

They talked of little things, of how strong they wanted the drink, over what type of tonic was needed, as the Dark Lord poured it for her. She watched his hands at work, how he so carelessly waves his hand and had the objects moving at his whim. The ice tickled as it dropped into the glass, hard against crystal.

“Now,” the Dark Lord said, drinks in hand, sitting down upon his couch, “tell me what happened tonight.” He handed Bellatrix’s glass to her.

“As a story, my lord?” Bellatrix asked, with an eyebrow raised playfully. She sat down too, next to him on the couch, her legs curled up under her skirt, her drink in hand. He nodded, and she began.


	5. Bitterness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw - non-explicit sex right at the beginning of this chapter :)

Exactly how they ended up against the bookshelf was a blur but they were there. 

Bellatrix was forced against the wood, gasping in pleasure as he picked her up, with is hands running up around her ass. Bellatrix kissed him like he was the air she breathed, passionate and desperate while dragging her tongue along the roof of his mouth. Fingers pulled at buttons. The Dark Lord had one hand working at her breasts, the other at her folds, while Bellatrix’s hands cupped his face lovingly. She wrapped her legs around his waist and held herself up against the wall while the Dark Lord pulled himself out.

They fucked. There was no other way to describe what happened there. It was not detached enough to be ‘copulating’ – there was a lot of emotion behind both sides - but neither was it ‘making love’. It was pure sex, against a bookshelf filled with ancient texts. It was the attention, the positive attention, that Bellatrix craved, and she drank it in. When she came, collapsing around his shoulders, she was in bliss. She could have stayed there forever: she wanted to stay there forever, curled around him, his hands in her hair.

Bellatrix was, therefore, surprised when – moments after they had finished – her feet were back on the ground and she was pushed back off of him. 

“Right” He said, walking away from her, catching his breath and fixing his appearance, “– go home. I’ll see you for another parseltongue lesson tomorrow.”

“Um…” Bellatrix thought she’d heard him wrong. He didn’t let her get a sentence out.

“Tell Delphi goodnight for me.” He continued, checking his face in the mirror on the wall and using his wand to remove the marks that Bellatrix’s lip-gloss had left on him.

“Where are you going?”

“I have a prisoner to interrogate.” He said simply, pulling the door open, ready to go. He paused. “See you tomorrow.”

“Um…ok…see you tomorrow, my lord.” What else could she say? What could she do? Bellatrix sort of awkwardly did a little curtsey, her hands holding onto each side of her blouse. 

“Bye.” He left, closing the door behind him firmly.

Bellatrix could not bring herself to move for a moment. Leaning back, she shut her eyes and rested her head against the bookshelf. She listened to the sound of his shoes clicking on the floorboards as he walked away. Sighing, she shook her head. Her hands found their way to her hair, terribly tangled from the sea spray and the force with which his hands hand been in it. Then to her lips, a little bruised. Normally, that would be a good thing – she did like it rough – but when one is left alone…

She breathed in sharply, fingers flying to the buttons on her blouse. Her fingers shook a little as she righted herself. She was glad that she had worn a shirt with a high collar, because her neck was feeling a little tender and she didn’t want Delphi to see if she had a hickey. Her fingers dug into the thick wool of her skirt, straightening it out violently.

Bellatrix stepped towards the mirror hung on the wall and, just as the Dark Lord had done, checked her reflection. A tired face with dark eyes stared back at her. Her thin lips were drawn into a frown, but her cheeks were still pink from the exertion of the minutes before. Her dark waves framed her face, wildly, extenuating the high cheekbones and prominent jaw that marked her face, and the faces of all the House of Black.

Bellatrix was still beautiful, but whenever she looked at herself now, she saw the flaws that Azkaban had extenuated. Her own image only depressed her. Bellatrix had tried desperately to regain the beauty she lost to Azkaban since her escape, but she was never satisfied with the results. Magic had made her hair totally black once again, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t aware that part of it was now naturally grey. It had fixed her teeth, that fourteen years in hell had destroyed. Scars had been healed into so far that they were invisible. But not everything could be restored. There were spells to restore youth, but they never looked truly natural. She couldn’t get rid of the lines that were permanently streaked around her eyes, or the way that her skin on her neck was beginning to pucker. She would never be satisfied.

Turning away from the mirror, Bellatrix finished getting dressed. She considered how best to get out of the house: she didn’t want anyone else to see her leaving. It would be too embarrassing. That proud side of herself, and the inward, judgemental voice of her mother, refused to let herself be seen like this. She did not stop to think about whether it would be more embarrassing to be seen, dishevelled, climbing out of a window in the mid-evening than it would be walking out of the front door, dishevelled in the mid-evening. Really, it didn’t matter: nobody was there.

The Dark Lord’s home was in London, in a townhouse he had acquired at some point in the first war. It was in Belgravia, so Bellatrix could slip out the back, cross the street and be in the park. Once, Bellatrix believed, it had been the headquarters for some muggle charity. It was too beautiful a building for that use, in Bellatrix’s opinion, so she was glad the Dark Lord was putting it to better use.

The window creaked loudly as she forced it open. Bellatrix climbed out, onto the roof, and down the fire escape at the back of the house.

It was quiet, peaceful as London could be, with only faint traffic noise and quiet birdsong. Buds were beginning to form on the barren, February trees filled with the promise of spring-time. The clank of the metal against her war boots as she scuttled down the fire-escape was an unpleasant sound, and it killed any form of calm Bellatrix could possibly have felt. She didn’t feel particularly calm anyway.

Upon reaching the ground, Bellatrix straightened out her appearance once again, smoothing her hair and readjusting her blouse, before striding out across the street, towards the yellow gravel of the park.

It wasn’t late: it was only seven. If she wanted to, she could go out. There was a bar in Camden she’d wanted to go to for a while – it was run by a goblin and sold smuggled in, Russian vodka. Russia had stopped imports when the Dark Lord had taken power, and Bellatrix missed the real stuff. Or maybe, she could go dancing. There was a different club in Nocturn Alley; Alecto had told her about it. But she didn’t trust Alecto’s music taste, and she was tired, so instead she decided to go for a walk. A short one. She needed to pick Delphi up anyway, couldn’t impose on the Selwyn’s hospitality any longer.

The sky was lilac, lightly dotted with the few stars that managed to break through the light pollution in London, above her. Frozen breath crystallising ahead of her, Bellatrix shoved her hands in her coat pockets and set off down the path. One thing you can say about London is that everything is relatively close together; in the distance she could see the muggle queen’s palace, all lit up with golden light. It was a beacon – she needed to go that way.

It towered over her, the highly decorated gates to the palace looking a little sinister as she walked. The lights that made the building look like it was bathed in candlelight from far away were too bright up close, and left harsh shadows on the white stone from the gates. Bellatrix knew that, when the Dark Lord finally took over muggle Britain as well as the wizarding side of the country, he’d have the place properly redecorated. Or perhaps destroyed, as a symbol. She’d like it either way.

She was being silly: that was her predominant thought as she walked. She had no right to feel slighted. It had been a good day – she’d blown up a muggle oil rig, she’d struck hard into the heart of the Order, she’d killed and captured, and the Dark Lord had praised her. Not only praised her: he had said she’d done wonderfully. They’d had sex for the first time in fucking weeks! These were good things! Things to be enjoyed, revelled in!

“Perhaps,” Bellatrix thought, “I should be more careful about wishing for things.”

She’d wanted more sex – she still wanted more sex – but maybe she should have specified that she wanted sex and affection. Call her picky, but she wasn’t too keen on being pumped and dumped. She wanted to wake up wrapped up in his arms. She wanted him to cry out her name, her name sounding ripped from him, unwillingly, as he never liked to show his own weakness. She wanted him to take her down into the dungeons with him, and let them torture Slughorn together, as they had done in the war, then they could continue what they had started.

Bellatrix kicked at the gravel, morosely, stopping by a muggle war memorial. Wandlessly, she charmed bits of gravel to throw themselves at the statue. She did not seem to see the irony that she had cursed Alecto for daring to even imply that they didn’t need to build a memorial for their own dead. She didn’t even think about it, even as she got one bit of gravel right to the top of the triangular shaped monument – her mind was consumed with her own problems.

She didn’t know why she was surprised: it’s not like the Dark Lord hadn’t not done this before. In the past she’d liked the roughness, the lack of emotion, the quickies between missions or meetings. Bellatrix didn’t know what had changed within her, but it just wasn’t as appealing any more. Attention, she supposed. She wanted a more attention: was that too much to ask? She’d been so alone, so touch-starved, for so long in Azkaban – feeling warm and cared for in someone’s arms just felt so much more wonderful than it had before.

“Ok,” she thought, “maybe I did know what changed.”

It had been easier, she supposed, when Rodolphus was alive. The Dark Lord had never been overly affectionate, and Dolph had loved her dearly. Any moment when Bellatrix had wanted the romantic side of things, she could have just gone to Dolph and forget about it. He had been good at taking her mind off of things. He was truly talented in that department. But she couldn’t go to him now, all she’d get was silence.

Death by House-Elf of all things: he’d been taken by surprise at their arrival in the Battle of Hogwarts and had been enveloped by the swarm. Bellatrix hadn’t known whether to be disappointed in him, terribly angry, or break down weeping. She’d settled on angry, and the Dark Lord had given her all the house-elves they had caught to do with as she wanted. They had made an awfully pungent bonfire.

The memory of that smell in her nose, Bellatrix exited the park. She was near the Selwyn’s house now, she decided just to pick Delphi up then go home. She wanted to get out of London anyway - London was great, but only in short bursts. Bellatrix much preferred living in the country. There was far less occasion for mixing with muggles in the country. Her home was in Country Durham, which she thought was much better. The Selwyns, however, lived in Mayfair. Their house was an elegant Georgian affair. White stone, fours stories, a huge, royal blue door that towered over anyone who stood below it.

Bellatrix spotted Delphi sitting at the window on the second floor as Bellatrix walked up the street. Delphi sat watching the street, her head was in her hands, looking quite bored and restless as she sat there. Her dark hair was plaited with a little pink ribbon at the end of the locks. Delphi didn’t wear bows in her hair, it had to be Eliza’s doing. When Delphi saw Bellatrix walking up the street, she jumped up excitedly, and disappeared from the window.

“At least someone values my presence,” Bellatrix thought, quite bitterly.

The Selwyn’s house-elf let Bellatrix in, bowing deeply to ‘Madame Black’, before scurrying off to alert his mistress that she was there. It was still odd to hear herself referred to as ‘Black’ again. She’d spent decades being Madame Le-Strange; it just felt weird. Not that she disliked going back to her maiden name – she preferred it immensely over Le-Strange – but it did take time to get used to it.

“Hello mummy!” Delphi appeared at the top of the stairs in a whirlwind of purple skirts. Socks skidded on polished wood, and Bellatrix was worried for a moment that she was going to slip down the stairs, but she did not. Delphi waved.

“Hello darling, where’s Eliza?” Bellatrix breathed out, putting on a false smile and put on a cheerier voice.

“She’s on the toilet.” Delphi said, succinctly. She trotted down the wide staircase, looking like she was quite ready to go home.

“Right. How was the sleepover?” Delphi ran over to her, a bright smile on her face.

“We had cherry cake!” Delphi said, as if it was the best thing she had ever had in her entire life. It seemed like she was trying to get Bellatrix excited about it too, but Bellatrix was a little too distracted to join in. 

“Did you? That’s nice.” She said. As soon as it had left her mouth, Bellatrix knew that she sounded dismissive. She didn’t mean to, she wanted to hear about what she’d been up to, but Bellatrix really felt terrible.

“Are you ok mummy?” Delphi asked, turning her head to the side, pausing on the stairs. “You’re crying.” She pointed out, her little voice cutting through the still air.

“Am I?” Her hands flew to her face. It wasn't 'crying' per say, there was two tears on her cheek. Stress tears: that's what she put it down to. “Oh yes, seems like I am.” Well, that was annoying. She pushed past it, deciding to ignore their presence on her face. “Come here darling.” Bellatrix knelt down and opened her arms out for a hug. Delphi grinned and ran to her. She put her little arms around her mother’s neck and hugged her tightly.

“You smell like the sea.” Delphi said. Good, Bellatrix thought, better than smelling like death or sex. 

“I’ve been on the beach.” It wasn’t even a lie, not that Bellatrix minded lying to a toddler. Sometimes that has to be done. Sometimes it was just funny. “Do you want to go to the beach tomorrow? That would be nice.” Bellatrix let go of her and stood back up. 

“Can we look in rockpools?” Delphi asked, with big eyes, bouncing up and down a little bit.

“Of course.” 

“Yes, please mummy.” She grinned, showing off her crooked baby teeth. 

“Oh, hello Bella!” Camilla Selwyn announced her presence by flouncing into the room. Her dress was loose and flowing, it was pink at the bust then transitioned into yellow as it reached the hem. Her smile was sunny, her dark eyes were warm, her black hair natural and loose. Despite just turning fifty, she didn’t look a day over thirty, which annoyed Bellatrix more than she would want to admit.

Camilla was a terribly beautiful person, inside and out. She always had been; she had been in Andromeda's year at school. It was a little insufferable. Bellatrix didn’t believe that people were actually that nice. She was sure there was some secret agenda underneath but for the life of her, in the forty years Bellatrix had known Camilla, she hadn’t been able to find out what that agenda could be. She had been lovely all that time. Or maybe it was just because Camilla was a Hufflepuff? 

“Hi,” Bellatrix sighed, with a polite smile, “sorry I’m late, there was a surprise mission.”

“It’s alright, Narcissa told me.” Camilla smiled. Bellatrix made a mental note to buy Narcissa a bottle of sherry. A cheap one. Once, Bellatrix had gone into one of those muggle bargain shops and stolen a bottle of sherry, replaced the label and had given it to Cissa, just to see whether she could tell the difference. She hadn’t. “And Delphi and Eliza have had a lovely time, haven’t you girls?”

“Yes Ms Selwyn – thank you for having me.” Delphi said politely, and Camilla patted the top of her head like the strange, beautiful woman she was. She said she was very welcome, and could come back any time. Bellatrix made a note of that. Not that she was planning on abusing that welcome or anything. Definitely not.

“Thanks ‘Milla. And Eliza is very welcome at ours too.” Unfortunately, that was the way of things – reciprocal. So, she would have to put up with Eliza’s whinging just so that Delphi could come over here again. Bellatrix was very confused as to how Camilla of all people had made such an annoying kid, but she did have a few of them, so maybe Eliza was just an outlier. “We’ll get out of your hair.” Even to Bellatrix’s own ears that sounded smarmy. Ah well.

She had her hand on Delphi’s shoulder, gently pushing her towards the door. Delphi looked up at her, a little grin on her face that looked suspiciously like her father’s.

“I need to put my shoes on, mummy.” She pointed out. Delphi did a little dance, showing off her fluffy, white socks.

“Oh yeah, do that.”

Bellatrix let go of her shoulder, and gently pushed her towards the shoe stand by the door.

“And you’re going to want her bags, aren’t you?” Camilla said, a little smug smile on her face. She waved her wand lightly and, with a small shriek from upstairs (which Bellatrix assumed was Eliza being surprised by the bag’s sudden movement) a black duffle bag shot down the stairs. Camilla caught it, gracefully, and handed it to Bellatrix. The thank you that escaped Bellatrix was a bit tense. “Will I see you at that ministry bash thing in a few weeks?” Camilla asked, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall, effortlessly elegant.

“Probably, let’s hope it’s better than the last one.” The last one was so dull that even the Dark Lord looked like he was going to fall asleep. That was until he’d taken Bellatrix into the minister’s office. That’d been fun.

Delphi tapped Bellatrix’s elbow, and waved one foot up in the air, showing off that she’d put them on herself. She couldn’t tie them herself yet though. Bellatrix waved her wand lightly, and the laces tied themselves neatly.

The pleasantries were exchanged, Eliza stuck her head over the top of the banisters and shouted bye, and Bellatrix and Delphi escaped out onto the street. The girl skipped at her side, her leather shoes clacking against the pavement as she did so.

“Your father says goodnight.” Bellatrix said, bitterly, as they walked towards the end of road. She was going to apperate from within the copse of trees at the junction to the next road. 

“N’night Daddy.” Delphi announced, cheerfully, into the air, as if he could hear her. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t care – he was busy. 

“Yes. N’night.” Bellatrix knew she sounded like she was in pain. It wasn't pain, it was just annoyance. Delphi moved to look up at Bellatrix, confused as to why she sounded so miserable. Bellatrix wasn’t planning on elaborating. “Come on, I’m tired, let’s go home.” Delphi nodded, her smile faltering, as she saw that her mother was unhappy.

They walked in silence for the few meters it took to get to the trees. When they got there, Bellatrix made sure that Delphi remembered what she needed to do while apperating - namely not letting go of her hand. It would be a terrible end to the day if Bellatrix had to go collecting any body parts from a bad splinch. Delphi nodded, looking bored. She got the same grilling every time they apperated, which was a lot. Bellatrix didn't care. If she heard it a lot, hopefully it would sink in. 

“I love you mummy.” Delphi said, softly, her little fingers squeezing Bellatrix's hand comfortingly. How she had produced such a wonderful child was a mystery. Bellatrix knew that she didn’t deserve her. She squeezed her hand back. 

“Love you too.” Bellatrix said, as they apperated away. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I've not really written anything sex related before lol so tell me if it's cringy :)


	6. Tantrum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok - this chapter is long as hell by the way, so fair warning.

It was frosty the next morning, and Bellatrix was close to ripping her own hair out. It had been a mistake to tell Delphi that she was going to see the Dark Lord.

“You’re staying here.” Bellatrix snapped, trying not to raise her voice.

“No.” Delphi said, crossing her arms and looking up at her mother defiantly.

“I’m not arguing with you. You’re staying here with your Aunt Cissa.” Who was fucking late! Narcissa was never late, she had fully absorbed their own mother’s adoration of punctuality and schedules, so this was not the usual for her.

“I don’t want to!” Delphi reiterated, scowling. The sheer determination on the girl’s face was almost impressive, given that she was still wearing mint green footie pyjamas but still managed to look like the personification of stubbornness. Bellatrix however was also extremely stubborn, and she was not going to cave to the demands of a child.

“Well, too bad!” Bellatrix said, putting her earrings in whilst looking in the living room mirror. She wasn’t looking at herself though, rather she was looking at Delphi in the reflection, and watching the little terrorist work herself up into a rage.

“But the beach!” Delphi whined, jumping up and down in frustration. Bellatrix knew that promising that on the spur of the moment was a bad decision. She needed to stop making promises when she was in a bad mood, they never ended up going well.

“Plans change, we’re not going to the beach today. You are staying here with Cissa and I am going to have a meeting with your father.”

“But why? Why can’t I see daddy?”

“Because he’s busy.”

“He’s always busy.” Delphi pointed out, and Bellatrix didn’t have a counter argument to use against it. Instead, she turned to the same diatribe she always used, the same one she told herself.

“Yes – he’s the leader of the country Delphi, that’s an important j - ”

“I wana go!” She shouted, unimpressed, and stomped her foot hard on the carpet. That coupled with the footie pyjamas meant that the stomp made no noise, but the violence was in the movement, rather than the sound.

“Well you can’t!” Bellatrix shouted back, knowing that she should not have done that as it left her lips. 

Delphi looked up at her, seemingly surprised that Bellatrix had raised her voice, but not scared. Delphi kept direct eye contact with her mother as she moved closer to a plant pot on a side table. In it, a large aspidistra plant sat, it’s great leaves quivering was Delphi got closer.

“Don’t you dare.” Bellatrix said, trying to sound calm but authoritative.

Delphi had learned, when she was two or so, that Narcissa would give her whatever she wanted if she threatened to make a mess. Soil and leaves from a fifty-year-old plant getting all over the room certainly was that.

Bellatrix had to have a stern talking to with Narcissa about not giving in to Delphi’s demands, and had felt the need to explain to her baby sister that – given she was a bloody witch – she could clean up any mess made, so there really was no need to freak. Seeing Narcissa's will immediately cave to a child, Bellatrix was no longer surprised at how Draco had turned out.

This was the first time Delphi had threatened to do this in weeks, which was a large gap all things considered.

“Being obnoxious will not get you what you want.” Bellatrix’s tone there did cause Delphi to pause, but only momentarily. She seemed to be testing whether her mother would do anything. Delphi could spot a bluff from a mile away, which would be useful in the future but was a right pain in the arse currently.

She took an exaggerated step forward, inching closer to the aspidistra.

Bellatrix scowled, and was about to issue a threat of her own, but she was suddenly distracted by the presence of a large, white owl tapping at the nearest window. It was one of the Malfoy’s birds. She kept Delphi in view, not giving her time to knock it over and run, whilst edging her way around the room in their silent stand-off. Taking the letter from its claws, then shooing the creature out of the house, Bellatrix was greeted by a note, closed with the Malfoy family seal. What she saw inside the note left a dark cloud over her mood.

_**Bella,** _

_**Forgive me but I cannot watch Delphi today. After the mission yesterday, Lucius is still in St. Mungos. He’s unconscious and I don’t want to leave him. The healers are being vague about his condition and I want to be here when he wakes up.** _

_**Love you, see you soon,** _

_**Cissa.** _

Whilst her eyes were cast downward at the infuriating letter, there was an almighty crash.

Delphi looked back at her, defiantly, with the remanets of the pot smashed at her feet. Soil had exploded everywhere, all over the floor, deep into the carpet by the fireplace, all over the furniture, all over her hands. Leaves decorated the room now with roots plastered on the wood. The look on Delphi’s face reminded Bellatrix of the Dark Lord, when he was belittling someone at the deatheater table.

“You’re going to clean that up by hand, you know.” Bellatrix hissed, her inner voice repeating over and over that she must not hit her. She could not do that – she didn’t want to do that. The bubbling tar of anger was rising, and Bellatrix had to fight it off.

Delphi kicked the shards and sent more soil spiralling across the room. The glare she fixed her mother with was legendary.

“It’s not fair.” Delphi muttered. Bellatrix knew she meant it wasn’t fair that she was being left alone again, but she decided to make it about the wanton property destruction.

“Fixing your own mess is very fair.” Which was exactly what Bellatrix needed to do now. The clock was ticking, and the Dark Lord did not appreciate lateness for any reason. “Now,” she conjured a dustpan and brush from the aether, and chucked it in the direction of Delphi. “as a thank you.” She said sarcastically.

Delphi didn’t touch it, and instead sat down in the mess, crossing her arms.

Bellatrix didn’t know what to do about this. She did not want to give in to Delphi’s demands, because that would be like surrendering. Surrendering to the demands of a child. And, less important to Bellatrix than her till now perfect record of ‘death or victory’, giving in would let Delphi think that she could just smash stuff and get what she wanted. Which wasn’t great. Sirius had been treated like that right up until he was sorted into Gryffindor and look how that turned out. But then there was the other issue, that Bellatrix needed to go now and now there was nobody to watch Delphi.

Bellatrix considered her options as Delphi decided to crawl through the mess and cling onto her leg like a particularly annoyed koala bear. She refused to let go, hissing in parseltongue ‘no’ over and over and over again.

The first thing she considered was sending Delphi through the floo network, telling her that she was going to her father’s house when in reality she would be sending her to St. Mungos and Narcissa. However, looking down at the tantruming little girl, Bellatrix had to concede that she would probably never be allowed back to the hospital if she did that, and Narcissa would definitely refuse to look after Delphi ever again (or at least for a couple of months).

Her next thought was to take Delphi to the Selwyns and beg Camilla to watch her but she quickly threw that out as Bellatrix never, ever wanted to be seen begging! Especially begging Camilla Selwyn. The only person Bellatrix had ever begged anything from was the Dark Lord and she did not intend for that to change, her pride did not allow it.

Bellatrix’s final thought was to quickly apperate to the ministry and dump Delphi on Rabastian’s office chair then run away. She had to throw that out too as Rabastian did have a pretty important job and it was not going to be helpful to him, or what he was doing, if there was an incredibly disruptive child in the office with him.

A decision needing to be made, Bellatrix looked between Delphi and the clock, weighing up her options. She sighed, and swore under her breath.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bellatrix stumbled out of the floo network with Delphi still clinging to her leg. Her dirty hands, covered in the damp soil from the aspidistra, clung to her mother so hard that Bellatrix was sure she was cutting off the blood supply to the leg.

“DELPHI I SWEAR TO **MERLIN** IF YOU DO NOT LET GO - !” Bellatrix was losing her cool, and thus was very pleased to see that the Dark Lord was waiting for her. He was sitting on his fireside armchair, a glass of water on the side table beside him. She really needed backup now.

“Well, well, well, this is quite a display isn’t it?” The Dark Lord said, dryly, looking the two of them up and down, mildly stunned. Delphi did not stop.

“Narcissa last minute couldn’t watch her.” Bellatrix explained, through gritted teeth.

“I can see that Bella.” He rolled his eyes, and took a sip of his water. “Delphini stop - you’re making a fool of yourself.” The Dark Lord said, but that stern telling off did nothing to quell the now silent rage Delphi was emanating. A look of shared frustration was given between Bellatrix and the Dark Lord, and he sighed. “Right, let go now or I’m going to lock you in the training room.”

Had Delphi been a bit older, she would have been reasonable enough to see that she had actually gotten what she wanted. She was not left at home, and she was in her father’s house with both of her parents. However, she was in rage mode and, as the red cloud had descended, the already underdeveloped logical mind had taken a back seat to the feral tantrum she was in the middle of. There was no reasoning with her.

They gave her five seconds to stop and, when she did not, the Dark Lord just nodded at Bellatrix. Her battle instincts kicking in, Bellatrix swiftly picked Delphi up, slinging her over her shoulder, even despite the girl kicking and punching in protest. Most of her kicks went into Bellatrix’s corset, so she wasn’t even hurt but Delphi’s toes definitely were going to be bruised. She started shouting again, mainly for them to put her down.

The training room was the perfect place to leave her because it was completely empty. It was an empty ballroom, with nothing on the walls or positioned around the room that Delphi could get her fingers into. It was meant for duelling practise, but it would make a decent time-out room.

“You can come out when you decide to be civilised.” Bellatrix announced, as they walked into the room, the Dark Lord holding the door open for her.

It was quite comical as Bellatrix placed Delphi down in one corner of the room, then sprinted back towards the door. Delphi ran after her, clearly trying to make it out before her mother but, as her legs were much shorter than Bellatrix’s, she failed. The Dark Lord shut the door on the toddler before she could escape.

“She’ll tire herself out.” He waved a hand, and there was a particularly loud bang against the door as she tried to knock it open. Being so small, that was not going to happen. She was switching between English and Parseltongue, just screaming. It was actually quite funny to Bellatrix, now that she was on the other side of a large door. The Dark Lord charmed it locked, looking similarly amused.

There was a very loud shout of parseltongue behind the door, which Bellatrix actually managed to understand, making her smile. Delphi had screamed for them to let her out, now. She translated as much, and the Dark Lord nodded, smirking. “Tea?” He offered.

“Please.” Bellatrix said, sounding bone tired. They walked off towards his office, only a few doors down the corridor, leaving the screaming girl alone behind the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Well Bella, I must say, I’m impressed.” The Dark Lord said after a quick quiz of her parseltongue comprehension. She’d recognised every word he’d said. Hearing him say that had Bellatrix beaming: she really had been practising. She was happy that he was being amicable because that made it so much easier for her to forget about how annoyed she’d been with him yesterday. “Because really, you are terrible at languages.” He said, but the insult was more affectionate than genuinely biting.

“I’m sure it just depends on the teacher.” Bellatrix grinned.

“Of course, it does.” He said, in a very congratulatory tone – congratulatory towards himself of course. “But even the best teacher cannot help the unwilling or the undetermined, or the useless. So well done for not being that.”

“Have you ever known me to behave like that, my lord?” She asked with a raised eyebrow, her voice a bit sharp. She did not consider herself to be a lazy person. She knew she was not a lazy person! She worked to the bone, and she did not appreciate any insinuation that would say otherwise. He saw that in her eyes and smiled, clarifying what he meant with a light laugh. She wondered whether he was laughing at her or the situation.

“No, thankfully. I cannot stand unmotivated people.” He took a drink from the tea cup he had before him. Bellatrix had already finished hers.

“You don’t attract unmotivated people my lord. Say anything about the deatheaters but I don’t think unmotivated is the right descriptor.” The Order of the Phoenix had thought of a lot of other descriptors over the years, some of them Bellatrix agreed with, others not so much, but she didn’t think that they would ever use that word. Evil, sadistic, bigoted – sure – but unmotivated? Probably not.

“You’re mostly correct.” He conceded, with a nod. “But I do think a few of them could do with a bit more…um” The word he was looking for was lost on him for the moment, and he drummed his fingers on the desk as he tried to find it.

“Inducement?” Bellatrix offered.

“Yeah…Malfoy is the primary example of this one.” The Dark Lord said with a nod. Bellatrix could not deny that.

“He’s still in the hospital. That’s where Cissa is.”

“Of course, he is. Head injury wasn’t it?”

“I believe so, I left him with Greyback, so…I’m not entirely sure.” She shrugged, she didn’t care whether Lucius was injured or not. She only cared if it upset Narcissa – which his death would – so she would put on a fake face if there was a funeral. “I guess it must be bad, because he’s still in there.”

“He is easily forgotten, so I don’t blame you…” The Dark Lord agreed. For a moment, there was a beat of silence. Bellatrix heard a muffled bang from the next room, and a quiet ‘ow’. There was no scream though – so Bellatrix assumed it was fine. The Dark Lord shifted a little in his office chair, looking a little uncomfortable with what he was preparing to say. “um…Unrelated, but are you well, Bella?”

“Yes? Perfectly healthy.” Bellatrix was confused. Did she look unwell? Her mind was spinning – what looked bad about her? Was that why he’d been avoiding her – she looked like she was about to drop dead? That was probably it! Who would want to spend time with a walking corpse?

“I don’t mean health wise, Bella.” He said quickly, seeing the spiral that her mind had gotten into and unwilling to deal with the fallout of that misunderstanding. Bellatrix still felt uneasy and her fingers found themselves playing with the ends of her hair self-consciously. The Dark Lord sighed. “It’s just that you’ve seemed a bit…down…recently.”

“Down?”

“Like you aren’t very happy.”

Oh, so he had noticed. Bellatrix was surprised. He seemed to walk around in a world completely devoid of emotions most of the time; he only tended to pay attention to the wants and needs of the mortals around him when they were useful to him.

She was glad for her occlumency shields a that point, because she wanted to scream at him for asking such a stupid question.

Of course she wasn’t happy! Most of her friends were dead…Dolph, Evan and Lysander Rosier, Dido Crabbe… and even the ones that weren’t dead were working so damn hard that nobody ever saw each other. Delphi was a fucking child and, while she was genuinely the best child Bellatrix knew, and she wouldn’t trade her for anything, she was still a child and not a source of stimulating conversation. And, most pertinent for the moment, he was ignoring her, for some unexplained reason.

Bellatrix could deal with loneliness – she spent fourteen years alone after all. She was stronger than most. While spending most of her time with a toddler had been difficult, she’d experienced far worse and besides, she’d do anything the Dark Lord commanded of her. All that she could handle just fine. But falling out of favour for seemingly no reason? That was genuinely painful.

But how could she tell him that? He wouldn’t understand – the emotionless creature he was. He’d never understood the more human side of her. Her love for Narcissa he’d never understood; Bellatrix agreed that Cissa was weak, and he just could not wrap his head around why she would still care for someone so useless. He liked her as a warrior, as a dark witch, as a lover, but as a human? Bellatrix didn’t think so. Humanity didn’t sit very highly on his list of priorities. 

One did not ask the Dark Lord about the machinations of his mind. She’d asked him once, why Severus Snape was in a higher position than her. He’d snapped at her, hit her with a crutiatus and then not slept with her for a month as punishment. So that wasn’t something Bellatrix wanted to get into again.

“I’m fine.” She lied. “I’ve been just been tired.”

“Seems like everyone is tired at the moment.” He said, more to himself than to Bellatrix. How many people had told him that? She couldn’t imagine Alecto or Rabastian sharing that information with him. “Are you sure that’s it? I’ve seen you tired before, and you’ve not been like this.”

“I’m fine.” She lied again.

He did not look convinced, but before he could press her on that point there was a bang, and a scream, and a cry from the next room. The cry was not one of anger and frustration, rather one of actual pain.

“Oh Merlin,” Bellatrix muttered, sighing as she got to her feet. Was it bad that she felt a little relieved that she didn’t have to continue with this conversation? Yes, she decided, given that the distraction was the sound of her child in pain. She didn’t know what Delphi had managed to do, given that the room was completely bare, but she was sure it was ridiculous.

To Bellatrix’s surprise, the Dark Lord also got to his feet, and the two of them walked to the ballroom door together.

The door wouldn’t open. As the Dark Lord wiggled the doorknob, the handle came off in his hand. The absurdity of the image, with the Dark Lord staring down at the doorknob with pure irritation, made Bellatrix laugh. He gave her a withering look. Bellatrix stifled herself, but there was still a grin on her face. 

“Delphini move away from the door.” The Dark Lord said, loudly, and there was a sobbing ‘ok’ from another side of the door, and a shuffling sound.

He pressed the elder wand to the hinges and, with a silent spell, the brass melted away into nothingness. With a loud crack, the doors landed on the marble floor and fell forward towards Bellatrix and himself. Another spell stopped their fall and shunted them, safely, to the side.

Delphi was sitting on the ballroom floor. She’d pulled her hair out of the ponytail it had been in and the dark curls circled around her head like a little halo. Delphi’s nose was running, tears were falling from her eyes, and she was holding one of her hands to her head.

“What happened?” Bellatrix asked, looking around the room and still seeing nothing that she could have hurt herself on. The room was just as empty as it was when she’d left her in there.

“The…the…” Delphi struggled to speak through her tears. “the doorknob…” Her free hand pointed towards the other side of the big brass circular doorknob, off the door, on the floor next to it.

“Did – did the doorknob hit you on the head?” Bellatrix scoffed, not quite believing it. Delphi nodded, and gulped through her tears. It would not have fallen off on its own, she had to be pulling on it. Pulling on it hard. Given the state she was in before, Bellatrix was not surprised.

While the Dark Lord stepped towards Delphi, Bellatrix walked over to the big brass instrument of head trauma. Picking it up, it was actually quite heavy for its size, and it was only after feeling its weight did Bellatrix actually get a little worried about Delphi’s head.

“And what did you learn from this Delphini?” The Dark Lord asked, crossing his arms, looking down at her.

“The door is evil.” Delphi muttered, darkly, glaring at where the offending door had been with the eyes of a pit viper. The Dark Lord was highly amused by this reaction, but he shook his head.

“No. What did you learn?”

Delphi scratched the side of her head, the side that was not injured, looking like she was trying to decide what to say. Bellatrix always thought she looked like Andromeda when she was deep in thought, which she found to be a little disconcerting. She was certain, though, that Delphi did not have the same flaws that Andromeda had.

“Don’t pull on doorknobs?” Delphi said, her speech going up a pitch at the end of the statement as she questioned whether she had got it right. She was always eager to show that she was clever in front of her father.

It wasn’t the answer he was looking for, but he couldn’t deny that it was the truth, so the Dark Lord nodded.

“Ok, what else?” He spoke patiently, more patiently than Bellatrix ever heard him speak to anyone else. She’d been with him when he had been training new recruits – at that time the crutiatus curse had been used liberally. It was, obviously, the bare minimum for a parent not to curse their child but still, she had been more surprised that she wanted to admit that she had never had to stop him doing that.

“My head hurts.” Delphi said, tears in her eyes again, threatening to spill over.

“And why does it hurt?” The Dark Lord did not back down.

“She doesn’t understand.” Bellatrix said dropping the doorknob, about to go over and fix Delphi’s head for her. The Dark Lord however raised a hand, getting her to stop what she was doing. Bellatrix paused mid stride.

“Yes, she does. What did you learn from this Delphini?”

“Don’t be naughty?” Delphi said, “Don’t break things?” She added after a couple of seconds. The Dark Lord clapped twice, sarcastically.

“Good. See, that wasn’t difficult was it?” It was a rhetorical question, but Delphi shook her head anyway. “Now, shall we fix your head?”

“Yes please Daddy.” Delphi said, back to her polite usual self, looking a little bit embarrassed. She moved her hand away from where it hurt. There was a bit of a bump, and it was red. The Dark Lord pressed the elder wand gently to the affected area and, with a silent spell, healed it up. The redness faded away, and the swelling went down instantly. Her cheeks were still pink and blotchy from the tears, but she was now unharmed.

“Apologise to your mother.” The Dark Lord said gruffly, as he finished healing her up. He didn’t look to Bellatrix as he said this, but if he had he would have seen her face warp into a surprised but affectionate smile.

“Sorry mummy.” Delphi said, looking genuinely sorry for it. The Dark Lord gave her a stern look, so Delphi continued. “Sorry for shouting. And kicking. And breaking the pot.”

“Oh, it’s ok Delphi, it was an ugly pot anyway. Next time direct that anger at someone we don’t like.” Bellatrix said with a smirk. Really, with anger like that, she’d be a great dark witch. “Might have to get you a punching bag in the meantime.”

“Oh yeah, a little one. Hang it from a tree.” The Dark Lord said dryly.

“You can’t keep acting like that though, darling.” Bellatrix said, sitting on the ballroom floor next to her. “Temper tantrums are for babies, and you’re not a baby, are you?” She was in Bellatrix’s eyes of course, but no small child ever wants to be called a small child – it’s a terrible insult to them.

“Sorry mummy. ‘m better now. I’ll be good.”

“Well, good, because you’re still going to clean up the aspidistra you destroyed.” The knowledge that she was not off the hook had Delphi looking crestfallen. “Don’t look at me like that, you smashed it.” Bellatrix laughed. Delphi nodded, morosely.

“In the meantime,” The Dark Lord said – he was still stood up while Bellatrix and Delphi were sitting together on the floor, so he was towering over them - “lunch?”

The thought of lunch cheered Delphi up immensely. She looked up at her father like he was a god that had just offered humanity eternal life or something equally as amazing. Rather than that it was, in fact, just chicken pie. With chips though, which always added a layer of magic to a dish in Delphi’s eyes.

They left after lunch, with Bellatrix successfully having avoided any more questions from the Dark Lord about her recent emotional state. She expected him to forget about it, as it was indeed a question of emotion and he was never normally interested in such things. She was certain that, by the time she saw him next, he would not have thought about it again.

As Bellatrix stood in her kitchen, a cup of tea in hand, watching Delphi sadly clean up the spilt soil from the living room carpet, she let her face finally fall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I thought that tantrums stopped after the 'terrible twos' but as it turns out (as told to me by the various mother's websites I have been reading) that is actually untrue, and kids are feral until they're 7/8. 
> 
> My youtube and spotify has been giving me pregnancy adverts since I looked this up, because we live in a hellscape, so I hope the realism was worth how insane this is driving me. :)


	7. Promises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW gore

Bellatrix had been right. Not only had he never brought it back up again, she hadn’t even seen him in three weeks. Nobody had. There hadn’t even been a deatheater meeting. He’d been sending out his demands by owl to people, but really, they weren’t needed. The ministry didn’t need the Dark Lord to function. He’d purposefully put people in roles to keep the place running without his direct input all the time.

Bellatrix was worried about him, but she didn’t think he’d be very happy if she went to check on him. There had been a time in the first war when he’d done something similar. Bellatrix, Lucius and Barty had gone looking for him, to make sure he wasn’t dead in a ditch somewhere, and it had gone very badly. It seemed that the Dark Lord had been doing some sort of extreme dark magic he didn’t want them messing with. They’d all gotten the crutiatus for their trouble. This time, Bellatrix decided that if she’d go make sure he was ok when he’d been M.I.A for a month. 

In that time, Bellatrix had tried to cheer herself up.

She’d taken Delphi to the beach. It was, unfortunately, March and it was freezing, windy and they had the beach completely to themselves. The beach was lined with dead jellyfish and plastic bags. The sand was so cold that you couldn’t walk barefoot on it comfortably. While Delphi had a great time, Bellatrix had not.

She’d been invited to a party at Malfoy Manor. She’d thought it would be a good time but Narcissa had neglected to inform her that it was a Valentine’s day party. Bellatrix hadn’t thought that it would be, given that it was several weeks after Valentine’s day. Walking into the house, Bellatrix had been filled with a sinking dread as she passed more and more paper hearts and fake diamonds. Walking into the ballroom and being faced with a room filled with happy, dancing couples killed Bellatrix’s mood completely. So, she’d filled her hip flask with whiskey and climbed out the window. She’d spent the evening drinking in a tree.

Late into week three Rabastian had finally gotten a day off, so they’d gone out. Well, they’d gone to Rodolphus’ grave, but it was not as bad as it sounded. Dolph had once, jokingly, requested that - if he died before Rabastian – his brother would come to his grave once a month and pour out a whiskey on it. So that’s what they did, joke be damned. Dolph would have found it funny. Dolph didn’t like flowers and stuff all over graves, so they didn’t bring any, just the whiskey.

“Bellatrix, care to do the honours?” Rabastian had said, smirking, holding a mini bottle out to her. Based on the clinking noise of his coat, it sounded to Bellatrix like he had more of them hidden in there.

“Such a gentleman.” She said, sarcastically, taking the bottle from him. The two of them nodded to each other. Bellatrix unscrewed the top of the mini bottle. Rabastian saluted and started to hum the funeral march. That was the cue for Bellatrix, who – after letting him hum for a bar or two – tipped her hand and allowed the fiery liquid to spill out over the gravestone. It pooled in the engraving of his name before draining away into the grid in the centre of the mausoleum.

They’d spent the rest of the day wandering aimlessly around Liverpool, popping in and out of museums and eventually just flopping into a dirty pub and playing poker. It’d had been fun, so fun that Bellatrix had forgotten how sad she’d been for a while. Especially when she’d won the poker, and had seen the look of irritation on Rabastian’s face when she had been rolling in the money he’d foolishly bet. He’d also bet the massive pencil he’s bought at the art gallery, so she’d won that too – much to his annoyance.

That was, however, just one day out of about twenty-three – and Bellatrix could not keep up her momentum for the rest of the three weeks. She didn’t understand why he was ignoring her – well everyone really, but she wasn’t just any random deatheater, she was his second in command, the mother of his child for merlin’s sake! And he was still ignoring her. Not trusting her. It hurt – it hurt her quite deeply.

Day twenty-three since Bellatrix had seen the Dark Lord was not a good one. It had rained all day. Delphi had been bored and up for causing mischief and Bellatrix had some ministry documents to read over – which did not make for a good mix. It had left Delphi sent to her room after she’d knocked a lamp over, smashing it and disrupting Bellatrix’s work. Now, a few hours later, Bellatrix felt a bit bad. Delphi hadn’t meant to, and had been crying when Bellatrix had sent her upstairs. She hadn’t come down for dinner – so Bellatrix had gone up there and left a plate outside the door for her. She decided to apologise to her in the morning.

Sitting in her kitchen, late into the night, Bellatrix was not feeling good. She had a glass of wine in one hand, a plate of toast before her. The candles were low, burning down to the stub. She’d been sitting there for hours, just thinking, and not. She felt silly, and then the sadness would crush her, then she’d pour herself another glass, then she’d feel silly again. The wine wasn’t helping. It wasn’t good. She was considering dipping the toast in it – if just to see what it would taste like. It was a cheap wine anyway, and even if it tasted disgusting it would give her something else to think about.

There was a loud pop outside of the kitchen window, just as Bellatrix had stuck the crust in the glass. For the moment, she was confused – and mildly concerned that she’d done something to the glass. She stared at it for a moment, looking for any cracks. It was when there was a loud bang as something hit the window. Jumping out of her skin, Bellatrix span around, in the direction of the window. She shot out of her seat like a cat that had been sprayed with water – straight over to the window.

The Dark Lord was stood in her garden. Well, not really stood. More leaning against the wall, his arm wrapped around his own abdomen, glaring in at her from the darkness. He did not look good. Even paler than usual, he was biting his lower lip hard and breathing ragged. He looked in pain, like he was trying not to show it though.

“Bella.” He snapped. “Let me in!”

She nodded, frantically, and sprinted towards the back door. It was less than twenty seconds before she threw the doors open and continued the sprinting, right over to him. There was blood on his hand, as he held it to his lower abdomen.

“Merlin – what happened to you?!” Bellatrix’s tone was not exactly calm. It wasn’t loud enough to be shouting, but it was on the way there. She was very concerned. 

“It’s not important what happened.” He said quickly, voice clearly in pain. “I miscalculated something and I have run out of dittany.” He put his hand on her shoulder, needing the support. His other hand was still clutching his abdomen, although Bellatrix couldn’t see what was causing the blood through the darkness of the night and his robes.

“Well, luckily I have a lot of it.” She said, comfortingly, sliding herself under his arm and allowing the Dark Lord to lean on her as she helped him walk towards the door. She knew that he wouldn’t be happy showing this weakness – he must be desperate if he was coming to her now.

“That’s why I’m here.” The Dark Lord said, quietly. He stumbled and Bellatrix realised he was actually a lot more hurt than she had thought beforehand. She tried to take his other hand, trying to hold him up a bit more steadily. As she reached out, there was something wet, and spongy against her hand and his. 

“Oh Merlin!” She gasped, pulling back. It was part of his intestines. Part of his intestines was outside of his body!

“Yes Bella” the Dark Lord said, trying to sound strong to her, “– some organs are visible. Can we get to the point where we fix this?” His hands were shaking. Bellatrix nodded, vehemently, and escorted him inside.

It was clear that, despite how hard he was trying to pretend not to be, he was not going to make it to the sitting room. Blood was trailing after him as they walked (well hobbled really) into the house. He bit down on his lip, hard, trying not to scream. She sighed.

“Ok, lean on the table.” It was covered in pots and pans, a large fruit bowl and the wine.

“The table?”

Bellatrix used a quick spell to throw everything off it, making a mess. The glass smashed against the wall, the crystal smashing hard. Ignoring that, Bellatrix escorted the Dark Lord by the arm over to it, and pushed him backwards a little bit, getting him to sit back on the hard surface.

“Don’t want you to lose too much more blood, my lord.” He muttered something about how there was no avoiding that, but did as she said. Bellatrix put her hair up as she summoned the dittany, the ‘ _accio_ ’ echoing around the empty house, along with the ragged breathing of the dark Lord as he held in the exposed part of his intestines.

“I’m going to need you to take your hand off the wound.” She said softly, catching the bottle as it flew into the room. He moved it, but the blood was holding the black fabric in place. “I’ll buy you a new robe.” She said, before cutting the fabric away from his skin with a quick severing charm.

“’t’s my own fault.” He said, through his teeth, as she peeled the fabric away.

Oh dear, Bellatrix thought. She was used to the gore of battles, but Bellatrix did not like to see him like this. There were deep slashing wounds across his abdomen, looking similar to the wounds that would be caused by a septumsepra curse. They were deep – very deep. Lacerations were bleeding terribly, so much so that Bellatrix could hardly see the different structures within. Just blood, blood everywhere. Protruding from the largest of the holes was something very clearly identified as the Dark Lord’s intestines.

Dittany was not the only thing she needed if she was going to fix this – it was far too bad for that. The organs needed to be put back into place, and that was going to be excruciatingly painful. Bellatrix wasn’t going to do that without pain relief for him. 

“You’ve really messed yourself up, my lord.” She said, summoning an anaesthetic potion as she did so. She took his hand into her own, and squeezed it comfortingly, the blood on his hand sticking to her own.

“If only it was directed to someone else.” He said, a vague whiff of some humour in his tone but it was overshadowed by the pain he was failing to cover up. The anaesthetic potion landed next to her, and she smiled tightly. The eyedropper was off within a moment, and Bellatrix used the potion liberally. She dripped it onto the wounds, as well as offered him some to drink. After a few seconds, the anaesthetic seeping into his veins, Bellatrix could see the pain lifting from his eyes.

“Better?” She asked. He nodded.

The clean-up and reinsertion of the intestines was not pretty. She worked quickly; extracting the jellylike goo of the clotting blood from the wound and sprinkling dittany into the cavity. It began to steam as the healing potion got to work. Pale skin knitted itself together, scabbing and crunching as it did so. The noise was horrifying. The smell of the potion as it worked was stomach churning, but Bellatrix was just pleased that it appeared to be working.

“Thank you.” The Dark Lord said, finally, as the wound closed completely. He didn’t try to sit up yet. Instead, he sighed and closed his eyes, leaning his head back onto the table, breathing deeply. Bellatrix wanted to keep an eye on him, and make sure it didn’t reopen. She quickly used cleaning charms all over the workspace and on the skin around where the incisions had healed over.

“What happened, my lord?” Bellatrix asked, pressing a comforting kiss to his temple. She knelt down then, making sure she was eye contact with him as she did it. She knew that she sounded like she was talking to a child, but if he was going to show up unannounced, terribly injured then she was going to act like this. He hissed something in parseltongue that Bellatrix did not yet understand, then realised what that she didn’t know what he was saying, and grunted.

“Let’s just say dark magic and leave it at that shall we?”

“Ok.” Her heart sank: he didn’t trust her. Her face fell too, involuntarily. Obviously it was dark magic – she didn’t think he’d been playing with knives or something. Her mind went to what she would tell Delphi about apperation, not to apperate sloppily, and she knew that she couldn’t live with herself if he’d splintched himself just after she’d cleaned him up. “Don’t apperate now, not while the dittany is still working.” Picking up bits of his stomach from the kitchen table would not be a fun way to end such a terrible day.

“I apparated here while my guts were hanging out.” He pointed out, pride in his voice that irritated Bellatrix to no end. She was aware that he was an extremely talented wizard – didn’t mean that he would vicarate himself and just walk it off. 

“Don’t push yourself, my lord, please.” And don’t run away from her. She didn’t think she could cope if he ran off again after that. After three weeks of radio silence, he could not show up like this then fuck off again without explanation. Bellatrix thought she would spontaneously combust.

“Ok.” He sighed, nodding, not looking all that pleased with the idea. “Ok, Bella.”

The next new minutes – maybe a bit longer than a few minutes, but the Dark Lord would never admit to the world that he was actually badly injured – Bellatrix helped the Dark Lord up the stairs and towards her bedroom. A place of rest. A good sleep will be exactly what he needs to finally fix him up – Bellatrix thought.

Their movements were practical and they did not talk. Bellatrix pulled back the covers of the bed, and helped him out of the blood splattered robes. His movements were still tense, the scar formations on his abdomen still pink with new skin and bruising. She would have to give him a bruise healing potion in the morning – but it couldn’t be taken at the same time as dittany without causing a nasty reaction. He let out a pained grunt as he sat down on the bed. Perhaps he thought that it wasn’t worth the effort it took to keep the pain covered anymore. Perhaps he didn’t mind Bellatrix seeing him like that, after everything.

She peeled off her own skirt, leaving the button up shirt she wore on. It was oversized anyway. Out went the candles, and down went the bed as Bellatrix scooted on to it next to him.

She lay next to him, in the dark, listening to him breathe. She wasn’t sure whether he was asleep or not, but she didn’t find that she minded. He was there! He’d been in pain and thought to come to her – she was so pleased. She knew that she shouldn’t be pleased – because she shouldn’t be happy about him being so badly injured – but that didn’t mean she wasn’t.

Silently, he reached out to her, under the covers, and pulled her close. Smiling affectionately, feeling much lighter than she had felt for a while, Bellatrix curled up to him. Her arm rested on his chest, her head resting on his shoulder. He rested his hand over the knuckles of her left hand, dragging his fingers backwards and forwards across her skin, as close as he could ever get to comforting.

“Bella?” He broke the silence, his voice a little hoarse.

“Hm?”

“You still don’t seem happy.”

Bastard – she thought. Bellatrix didn’t know why he was bringing it up now. It had been three weeks for merlin’s sake. She tensed up. She knew he could feel it.

“I’m not happy to see you hurt, my lord.” Her voice was very quiet, and tense.

“You know what I mean.” The Dark Lord said darkly. “You sidestepped my question last we spoke, don’t do that now…Bella,” he paused, “please.” He never said ‘please’. Bellatrix couldn’t think of a time that he’d pleaded with her before, not really. Maybe when she was pregnant? Her mind was blank to it.

“No.” Bellatrix breathed out, into the darkness. “No, I’m not very happy.”

He was quiet for a moment, and Bellatrix thought that he may be angry with her. That it may be the wrong thing to say.

“Why not?” He said, finally.

“It doesn’t really matter. No need to complain.”

“Bella…” He turned a little, and positioned himself so that he could look her in the eyes. Red met brown. He didn’t look angry. He looked, well, concerned. “You’ve more than earned the right to be happy. Just tell me what is wrong.”

It took her a moment. She’d spent so long thinking it over – how terrible she felt – that now, when she needed to speak, it wasn’t coming out properly.

“Things are just…wrong…I can’t really…I have nobody to talk to…I don’t know…” Trailing off, she shook her head. “It doesn’t matter, my lord. Forgive me.”

“You’re lonely.” He spoke. It wasn’t a question. Merely a statement of face.

“Yes, my lord. I suppose I am.” That was one way to say it anyway. It was a word that could describe it: but that word felt like it was diminishing. Lonely is what little children feel when their friends aren’t at school that day. ‘Lonely’ felt childish to Bellatrix. This didn’t feel childish. This felt crushing.

“Why?” He asked, in that probing sort of tone that people use when they’re trying to get you to open up a bit. Bellatrix wasn’t sure that she’d ever heard him speak like that before. The tone worked, and Bellatrix couldn’t stop the words flowing after that.

“Most of my friends are dead…Narcissa and I are getting on each other’s nerves…Rabastian is literally always working, so I never see the bastard…” realising that sounded like she wasn’t pleased with the Dark Lord’s governmental planning, so she quickly added “not that I think you shouldn’t be working him to the bone, my lord…” she bit her lip, “I spend most of my time with Delphi – and she’s not exactly a conversationalist…and the parseltongue thing doesn’t help that. I don’t want to be a social butterfly or anything – I just want to have an interesting conversation with someone over the age of twenty-five at least somewhat frequently.”

“We talk frequently.” He tried to say.

“No, we don’t, my lord.” She corrected him, misery dripping from her voice. “Outside of meetings and Delphi, we barely talk anymore. I haven’t seen you in three weeks! I…I miss you.” She admitted, like it was a dirty thing. She fiddled with a ring on her left hand. It wasn’t her wedding ring: she’d lost that one when she was taken to Azkaban. The Dark Lord had given her this one. “Why do you think I asked you to do the parseltongue lessons? Delphi was only one part of it: I just wanted to spend more time with you.”

As she finished, she looked away from him, not wanting to show the weakness she felt. All that talk felt like she was the one with her chest peeled open, her bloody, beating heart on display. They fell into strained silence, and Bellatrix felt her insides dying.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“To you?” She couldn’t help but scoff.

“Yes.”

“You’ve seemed stressed, I wouldn’t want to bother you with something you wouldn’t be interested in.”

“Why would I not be interested Bella?” He asked, sounding genuinely confused. Bellatrix didn’t know why he would be – he’d never been interested in emotions. They were just weakness to him, why would he care if she was unhappy if it wasn’t impacting her work? Was it impacting her work?

“I don’t suppose you get lonely, my lord.” She said, instead of all that.

“No, not usually,” he conceded, “but it’s not like I’ve never been lonely…”

“You have been very open for the entire time I have known you that you do not see the point in human emotion. That you are above it.” Bellatrix retorted, sounding more accusatory than she had meant to, but he didn’t seem affected by this.

“True. I am above it,” he nodded, “doesn’t mean that I have always been.” Bellatrix didn’t really believe him.

“When have you been lonely, my lord?”

“When I had no body. Stuck in the forest in Romania alone for ten years was pretty terrible.”

Ok – she couldn’t argue with that. Bellatrix wasn’t sure whether she thought Azkaban was worse than the whole ‘no-body’ thing but, one thing she could say was that she didn’t want to be involved in either.

“Fair.” She nodded, and the Dark Lord huffed a little in laughter. He moved again, wrapping his arm tighter around her waist, and pulling her a little closer to him. Bellatrix could feel the beat of his heart through his chest. The steady rhythm was actually quite calming, as was the smell of his cologne. 

“You’re right, though.” He said, much to Bellatrix’s surprise as he never admitted that he was wrong, “I have been very busy. Everything has been so hectic. I’ve just been working all the time; I know I have just been downright unpleasant to be around most of the time.”

“Well, maybe a little bit.”

“Maybe quite a lot. That was unfair of me; you’ve done nothing to warrant such behaviour.” He said, much more diplomatically than Bellatrix was used to, and it threw her for a loop. The mattress creaked under them, as Bellatrix shifted on the bed, wrapping her leg around his and looking up at him once again.

“I always enjoy your company, my lord. It’s just…I…”

“You what?”

“I just wish I had more time with you…that’s all. I love Delphi – really, I do, she is one of the most wonderful things in my life – but she is a child. She cannot be my friend – she’s four. We can’t have a mentally stimulating chat because her brain isn’t complete yet.” She shook her head, leaning back. “I don’t know! I can’t explain it. I was so much worse in Azkaban, but…”

“But there was something to look forward to? In Azkaban, you were sure that I was coming back for you so there was something to look forward to there – now there is no goal you can see in the immediate future, and you feel like you’re falling down a hole with no bottom.”

“Well…yes. Yes, you’ve hit it right on the head there, my lord.” She didn’t know how he’d hit it so well, but he was right. Completely right.

“I understand the feeling.” He said quietly, but did not elaborate. There was another silence that fell between them but it was not an awkward one. More of a pleasant silence, like it was the end of a conversation. It was not though. “You sound like you need a holiday.” He said, the idea of a quick fix on his mind. “A nice break, somewhere warm. Somewhere with other dark sorcerers you can have a chat with. Or a fight, depending on what you feel like.”

“I’d like that.” Bellatrix said softly, her lips brushing against the skin on his collarbone. She wasn’t sure that going away was going to solve this problem, but she was not going to turn down a nice trip.

“Might come with you.” The Dark Lord added.

“I’d really like that, my lord.” She would really like that. That was exactly the kind of thing Bellatrix wanted. You cannot just snap your fingers and fix a problem like this – even with magic. Just sending her away wouldn’t make her feel better, even if she was sent away to a lovely place. But this was not that. Bellatrix couldn’t see a better outcome than this.

“I can leave Yaxley in control for a little while, he isn’t completely incompetent.” The Dark Lord said, more to himself than to Bellatrix, as if he was running through the logistics in his mind. “Go quietly, minimal fuss, so that the Order wouldn’t think to attack while we’re not in the country.”

“I hear Egypt is nice this time of year.”

“Yes, it is. Quite lovely.” Sounded like he had first-hand knowledge there: he probably did. Belltrix knew he’d gone travelling at one point. “We can leave Delphi with the Malfoys, or your brother-in-law.”

Remembering how angry Narcissa had been when she had last left Delphi with her, Bellatrix decided that it would probably be better if they left her with Rabastian. Delphi loved her, sort of uncle. Not by blood, of course, but neither Rod nor Rabastian had any children. Rod being dead, and Rabastian being very uninterested in relationships of any kind, that wasn’t going to change. Rabastian had sort of taken up the role of ‘cool uncle’ – and Bellatrix was happy to give him that title.

“Rabastian and Delphi would both like that, I think. He’s been teaching her the piano.” Bellatrix liked that; the piano was a beautiful instrument. She did not enjoy when Rabastian had taught her the drums. Not one bit, because Delphi had taken a lot of pots and pans from the kitchen and used them as her own drum set, with a large, wooden spoon as her drumstick. It had to be confiscated, quickly, much to Delphi’s dismay. 

“Ah, perfect. I’ll tell them to have a piece ready for when we get back. Give them something to do.” The Dark Lord said, actually sounding quite jovial.

“And they would throw their all into it. They would have a whole symphony ready.”

“Would? They will.” He corrected.

“This is really happening?” Bellatrix was still unsure whether it was a test or not. It seemed not to be. The Dark Lord sighed, affectionately, and manipulated her head, allowing him to kiss her. Bellatrix sighed into his kiss, the tightness that had been sitting in her chest for weeks slowly melting away the more time she spent with him.

“Yes.” He said, as he broke away from the kiss. Bellatrix’s hand rested on his cheek, and he did not push her away. “You have earned the right to be happy Bella. And, well, you’re not. I can’t bring your friends back to life – unless you want an infiri of Rodolphus…”

“I’m good without that, thank you.” Bellatrix said with a little laugh.

“Yeah, thought so. I can’t make Delphi grow up any quicker. Nor can I change the dynamic you have with your sister. But I can spend more time with you. It’s not like I am burdened by that. I do enjoy your company, Bella, which is more than I can say for most people.”

“I love you; you know.”

“Yes.” He did not say it back, and Bellatrix did not expect him to. Sinking down into the soft cushions of the bed, Bellatrix sighed, feeling quite light. Much lighter than she had felt for quite a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah - I know this is up later than I usually update but I was really busy choosing my uni college this weekend and didn't finish it. :) Hope you enjoyed.


	8. Morning

Bellatrix woke. It was still dark, but through the wispy, organza curtains the greyish purple of the sunrise could be seen. The clouds tumbled, round and long like logs across the sky. Each wave of them looked so tangible, and seeing them Bellatrix found her sleepy mind wishing she could touch them. They would be soft in her fingers, she thought, distantly.

She hadn’t always been a light sleeper. When she was just a girl, Bellatrix had slept every night like the dead. Her mother had been terribly angry with her once because there had been a fire alarm in the middle of the night, and Bellatrix had slept straight through it. All had been fine in the end. Her father had decided that baking bread was a fantastic thing to do while drunk, had fallen asleep and the kitchen had burned. Luckily, her mother had discovered the fire before too much damage could have been done, and she had put it out swiftly. Andromeda and Narcissa had run down the stairs to see what was the matter, clutching at teddy bears and sleep in their eyes. Bellatrix had been discovered, sleeping soundly, a smile upon her face, completely unaffected.

No more though. That pleasant sleep had slowly been sucked from her.

Hogwarts did it first. It was not a good idea to sleep so heavily in a dormitory filled with other girls whose favourite activities included nocturnal pranks. It took Bellatrix getting her hair cut off while she slept by that bitch Rita Skeeter for her to decide to make herself sleep smarter.

Then came the war. Bellatrix was a wicked woman, she delighted in battle and torture. Dark magic flowed within her like the fastest of rivers. Given the choice between Narcissa’s quiet, peaceful life, and her own one, steeped in blood, Bellatrix would always choose her own. Yet, she still found herself less and less able to sleep. She felt no guilt for her actions in her waking mind. She was glad of everything she did, prided herself in the malevolence she caused. But she could not escape the eyes in her dreams. The eyes of the people, of the lives, she had snuffed out. It was not every night. It was not even most nights. But their number was substantial, and for the girl who never had nightmares it was quite a change.

Then came Azkaban, and she didn’t want to think about that. Those eyes that had popped up in her dreams before were following her every night. Every bad event she’d ever experienced was burned into her mind. Every harsh word or curse the Dark Lord had levelled in her direction roared in her ears. She barely slept now. No. She didn’t want to think about it.

Now she woke up, the bad dream that had been behind her eyes slipping away. She woke up, face to face, not with the Dark Lord as she expected, although she could feel him next to her as his hand rested gently on her upper leg. Instead, Bellatrix opened her eyes to see Delphi.

The little girl stood at the side of her bed, just tall enough to reach where Bellatrix’s face was on the pillow. She held a stuffed dragon in one hand, a blanket in the other. Wearing pyjamas that did not match – the top being black with a cute little snake embroidered on it, and the bottoms being pink and spotty – Delphi looked down at her mother ominously. For a moment, Bellatrix thought she was a ghost, but it was just the pre-dawn light playing tricks with her eyes.

“Mummy,” Delphi whispered, making sure Bellatrix was awake.

“Delphi?” Bellatrix’s voice was gravelly from the sleep. “What’s wrong?”

Delphi pointed to the other side of the bed with the blanket hand and furrowed her eyebrows. The Dark Lord was there, still fast asleep. He lay on his back, his face laying sideways on the pillow, towards Bellatrix. He normally slept on his side, Bellatrix knew, but based on how terribly he had been injured the night before, how he normally slept wouldn’t be very comfortable.

“Why is Daddy here?” Delphi whispered.

“He hurt himself.” Bellatrix said, not sitting up. The bed was too warm, and the air of the bedroom too cold – if her frozen nose was anything to go by. Plus, she didn’t want to move, and risk the Dark Lord’s hand moving.

Delphi didn’t look like she believed her.

“Why are you here, darling?” Bellatrix asked again. Delphi hugged her dragon close to her, and looked around the grey room.

“Bad dream.” She whispered again. Bellatrix knew exactly what that was like, so smiled at her daughter sadly. Bellatrix scooted a little backwards, careful not to wake the Dark Lord up or knock his hand off her leg, and pulled the duvet back a little bit.

“Come here then.” She said softly, gesturing with her head for Delphi to climb in. She did, clearly really wanting a hug from her mother. Bellatrix wrapped her arms around her, pulling her in close, resting her head atop of Delphi’s head. “I’m sorry for shouting at you yesterday. That wasn’t very nice was it?”

“No, it weren’t.” Delphi muttered into the pillow. Bellatrix laughed lightly, trying to keep it quiet.

“Wasn’t.” She corrected her, but Delphi didn’t care. “Well, I’m sorry.” Delphi didn’t answer, but she did snuggle up closer to her Bellatrix, which she took to be her accepting the apology. “What was your dream about?” Bellatrix asked.

“Bats in my hair.” Delphi said, quietly, squeezing her dragon teddy close to her. Bellatrix sighed, and reached up, stroking Delphi’s hair lightly.

“That’s a myth you know. Bat’s don’t fly into people’s hair.”

“That doesn’t help my dream mummy.” Delphi pointed out.

“It does,” Bellatrix argued back, kindly “I promise that it will never happen when you’re awake.” She thought that it was a promise she could absolutely keep, given that it never, ever happened. 

“Eliza’s sister put jam in her hair, but that’s different.” Delphi said, running her fingers backwards and forwards along the back of Bellatrix’s hand, playing with the ring she’d forgotten to take off before she fell asleep.

“Just a little bit.” Bellatrix nodded. What in Merlin’s name was going on in the Selwyn’s house? “Jam isn’t alive. And I don’t think bats are overly sticky.”

“’t fuck are you talking about?” The Dark Lord muttered, barely awake. He did not sit up, nor did he open his eyes. He did not swear very often, he really was not awake yet if he was saying that.

“Fuck is a bad word Daddy.” Delphi said, announcing her presence chipperly. Bellatrix couldn’t stop herself from laughing. He seemed very perturbed by this. The Dark Lord’s eyes flew open and he sat up sharply, looking around the room. He hissed in pain as he did so, the bruises on his stomach reminding him of their presence.

“Delphi had a nightmare.” Bellatrix said, rolling onto her back. Her arms were no longer around Delphi, but that didn’t matter. Delphi sat up on her knees, very entertained by this situation. She seemed much more awake than she had been a few seconds ago. 

The Dark Lord nodded, sleepily, and sniffed.

“What time is it?” He asked gruffly, voice still gravelly from sleep, rubbing his eyes.

“Half past five.” He nodded as Bellatrix answered, and lay back down. Bellatrix smirked, pleased that he had decided he has time to stay here with her. He rolled over, winced, and looked towards Bellatrix and Delphi.

“How did you hurt yourself Daddy?” Delphi asked, wrapping her blanket around her shoulders. She hugged her dragon close to her, but she was no longer scared. She was excited. Delphi was now sat on top of the duvet, on top of Bellatrix’s legs, while both of her parents were underneath the covers.

“Dark magic.” He said, simply.

“What type?” Delphi probed. Bellatrix knew immediately that she was not going to answer, given that he hadn’t even told her. She was correct.

“Not important.” He said, looking Delphi in the eyes as he did so. It looked like he was trying to make her back down but she looked right back, a little grin on her face.

“Tis.” Delphi insisted.

“Not to you it isn’t.”

“Tis.”

“Shush.” He sighed, putting a finger out to make her be quiet. Bellatrix laughed under her breath.

“You’ve got a big bruise on your tummy daddy.” Delphi pointed at the Dark Lord’s stomach. He was shirtless and, where last night there were deep slashing wounds across his abdomen, looking similar to the wounds that would be caused by a septumsepra curse, there were long tendrils of dark purple and green. It looked really quite painful.

“I’m aware of that, Delphi.” He said, dryly. Delphi nodded, like she should have realised that before.

“D’ya want me to get the bruise ointment?” She asked, suddenly, with a grin.

“Do you know where it is?” Bellatrix asked, eyebrows furrowed, sitting upwards. She really shouldn’t know where it is, there were a lot of poisons in the cupboard with it. Bellatrix hoped she was lying.

“Bathroom cabinet.” Delphi said, cheerfully, and grinned at her mother, as if she thought she would be impressed with her knowledge. No luck. She was absolutely correct, and Bellatrix’s stomach dropped.

“How you know that?” Her voice rose just a little bit, in her panic, and the Dark Lord laughed at her subtly. She didn’t look at him.

“Me and Eliza were looking for treasure.” Was the simple explanation.

“Why would there be treasure…? you know what, never mind.” Bellatrix sighed, pressing her fingers to the bridge of her nose. “Don’t go routing in cabinets Delphi, there’s bad stuff in some of them.” Like the draught of living death that she had prepared last week, or the baggie of hemlock Rabastian had given her, or the snake venom nail polish the Dark Lord had given her for Christmas. Thinking about it now, it probably wasn’t a good idea to keep the medical potions and the poisons together. She would separate them later.

“D’ya want me to get it or not?” Delphi asked, crossing her arms, and raising an eyebrow in a look that was so similar to Andromeda that Bellatrix was actually taken aback for a moment.

“Yes.” The Dark Lord said, nodding. A massive smile sliced across Delphi’s face. She jumped off the bed and scampered off. The door to the bedroom banged as she skittered away.

“I need to lock the cabinets.” Bellatrix said, to herself. The Dark Lord laughed a little. After a moment, Bellatrix rolled onto her side again. He turned his head, so that they were lying face-to-face. “How are you feeling?” Bellatrix asked, softly.

“Sore.” He admitted, which surprised Bellatrix, as he really disliked showing his weaknesses. However, given the wincing that he’d already displayed, perhaps he didn’t think it was worth the effort lying would take. “Thank you for fixing me up so well.” He said, sounding quite genuine.

“I was hardly going to leave you to bleed in the garden, my lord.” Bellatrix reached out, her hand taking hold of his, dragging her thumb backwards and forwards over the knuckles on his hand. He smiled softly.

There were bangs and bumps from the next room, as Delphi was rummaging around in the bathroom. They ignored them, and Bellatrix really hoped that she didn’t spill anything on herself.

“Fair.” The Dark Lord nodded. “Are you feeling better this morning?” He asked, probingly.

Ah yes – their conversation from last night. Did she feel better? Bellatrix wasn’t sure. She supposed so. There hadn’t been any real change, just promise of it. How would promises – ones that she was unsure whether would be gone through with or not - help? Still, she did feel a bit lighter, as if just speaking the words out had lifted a weight from her back. Like Atlas, having the weight of the sky lifted off his shoulders, Bellatrix felt a lot freer.

“Yes.” She smiled, moving her hand up from his to his cheek, cupping it gently. He leaned into her hand. Bellatrix scooted a little bit closer to him, her nose just barely touching where his would have been. “I enjoy waking up next to you.” She kissed him, starting off gently, but then turning deeper. The Dark Lord reached out and pulled her in closer. One of his hands cupped her jaw and the other found itself on her back, gently pressing her closer to himself. Both of Bellatrix’s hands were around his head, fingers behind his ears and thumbs slowly moving backwards and forwards along his jaw.

“Yuck!” Delphi said loudly, kicking the door open. The bang from the door forced them apart, like they’d been struck by lightning. 

“Didn’t ask for your commentary Delphini.” The Dark Lord said, darkly. Bellatrix scooted back from him, sitting up against the headboard of the bed. The Dark Lord did the same.

“Still yuck.” Delphi jumped up onto the bed. “Here ya go.” In her little fingers there was clutched a small pot. Green, with a peeling off, yellow label – it was a small pot of anti-bruise ointment. She handed it over to the Dark Lord, looking very pleased with herself, as if it was a great achievement that she had found it.

“Thank you.” He said, diplomatically, accepting it.

Delphi sat on the end of the bed, wrapping the blanket around the dragon toy like it was a cloak, or a nun’s wimple, as the Dark Lord put the ointment on the busies. Bellatrix watched as just melted away. From mauve, to grey, to a sickly pale green and brown then gone, the bruises healed. The Dark Lord visibly breathed easier as his ribs and abdomen went back to normal. Bellatrix smiled, watching the magic do its work – from experience she knew that it created a strange, tingling, bubbling feeling on the area the bruise ointment was applied to. It wasn’t a bad feeling, just weird. She poked Delphi with the end of her foot, as they waited for the healing magic to finish. Delphi was smacking the top her foot and Bellatrix was kicking upwards in response. The giggles from the little girl (so easily entertained) filled the quiet house.

“All betta.” Delphi said, yawning, as the final bruise melted away into the skin. She scooted her way along to sit next to Bellatrix, on the other side of her to the Dark Lord. She curled up like a kitten, clinging onto her mother’s pyjama shirt. As pleased as punch, Bellatrix stroked the top of Delphi’s head, her fingers entwining in the curls of her hair.

“Yes, all better.” The Dark Lord said. He leaned back against the headboard, and accepted the arm that Bellatrix offered to wrap around his shoulders. As Bellatrix pressed a kiss to his temple, the Dark Lord continued. “How would you feel if we left you with Rabastian for two weeks Delphini?”

“Where are you going?” Delphi asked. Bellatrix was surprised that he was even bothering to ask her. She was also surprised that he was actually saying that. Saying it out loud, even if just to Delphi, meant that it was real.

“Egypt.”

“There are lots of snakes in Egypt.”

“Yes, there are.”

“Can I not come, or is it grown up stuff?” By the tone of her voice, Delphi already knew it was the second. She didn’t sound upset, nor did she sound happy. It was a very neutral tone of voice, the kind one would use in a boring meeting.

“Grown up stuff I’m afraid.” Bellatrix said, and made sideways eye contact with the Dark Lord. She wiggled her eyebrows, and the Dark Lord smirked.

“Will Bastian do the drums again?” Delphi sat up, looking between the two of them, while they tried to look as innocent as possible. It was not very possible on the two of them. They did not have innocent faces, in any way shape or form.

“Probably.” Bellatrix said, not doubting it for a moment. He’d do it just to annoy her. He’d probably buy Delphi a drum set just to make sure Bellatrix was irritated, money be damned. Delphi nodded, like she was considering a business deal.

“Can you get me a snake?” She asked, weighing up the pros and cons of the idea. She’d wanted one for a long time. Bellatrix wouldn’t say that she’d wanted one since birth, but probably pretty swiftly afterwards. Maybe she wouldn’t have asked for one of her own if Nagini was still alive, but the Longbottom boy was responsible for that tragic death.

“Sure.” Bellatrix nodded and Delphi grinned, in a very ‘deal is done’ sort of way.

“A king cobra?”

“They don’t live in Egypt.” The Dark Lord said quickly, and Bellatrix was glad of the man’s seemingly encyclopaedic knowledge of where every serpent on the planet was from.

“Oh.” Her face fell.

“There are Egyptian cobras. How about one of those?” The Dark Lord offered, as if the look of disappointment on her face was pushing him to speak. Bellatrix knew him better though; she didn’t think he’d be moved by that. Still, she was happy that he would get it for her.

“Ok, have fun.” Delphi went back to the sunny smile she’d had before. “When are you going?”

“Um…” Bellatrix couldn’t say. She’d not considered when it was supposed to happen, mainly because she didn’t think that the Dark Lord actually meant it, rather she thought that he was saying it just to make her feel better in the moment.

“Next month, some time.” The Dark Lord said, and nodded to Bellatrix in a ‘yes, this is happening’ look, which had her wondering whether or not he’d been reading her mind.

“D’ats nice.” Delphi yawned, but tried to hide it.

“It will be.” The Dark Lord nodded. “You tired?”

“No.” Delphi lied unconvincingly.

“Alright then.” The Dark Lord rolled his eyes. “You can just stay awake there while we go back to sleep.” He lay back down, and pulled Bellatrix with him. Delphi looked terribly offended by this and it took everything Bellatrix had not to laugh. She forced her face into a neutral look, and shut her eyes, trying to focus on the warmth of the Dark Lord’s body next to her, and the softness of the pillow under her head.

“Wait no!” Bellatrix could feel Delphi moving around the bed. She felt Delphi poking her legs, then her face in an attempt to “wake them up”.

“Can’t hear you Delphi, sleeping.” Bellatrix said, her eyes clamped shut, and her hand clutched around the Dark Lord’s wrist.

“Mummy…Daddy.”

Her complaints fell on deaf ears. They both pretended to be asleep. Delphi sat up on the bed. Bellatrix could practically feel the irritation emanating from where she sat, like spray-on-deodorant in the air. There was a moment of blissful silence, but it was the eye of the storm. Bellatrix was sure that, rather than just sitting there quietly, she was actually just considering her options. And Bellatrix was correct.

Delphi jumped on them, sort of. More, she rolled onto them, using all of her (admittedly very little) weight to squish them. She forcibly knocked the wind out of both of them. Her pointy little elbow went straight into the Dark Lord’s abdomen on the soft spot where the bruise ointment is still working.

“Oof.”

“Delphi GET OFF.” Bellatrix snapped and, hearing the danger in her mother’s voice, Delphi jumped off immediately.

“You’re not sleeping!” She pointed at the two of them, defensively. Bellatrix was about to argue back, but the Dark Lord just rolled his eyes.

“We are, look, come lie down.” He gestured for her to come and lie down between the two of them. She did. Like a hen settling down on her eggs, Delphi wriggled her way in between them, still holding her dragon teddy. “There, now lie there, and go to sleep.” The Dark Lord said, patting her on the top of her head awkwardly. Bellatrix found herself absolutely adoring him right at that moment. Even more than usual.

“It’s morning.” Delphi argued, pointing to the now pink light that was streaming into the bedroom. Bellatrix waved her hand, and silently used a spell to shut the curtains. Bellatrix snuggled down in the blankets.

“It’s still early. We can sleep for a couple more hours. You either stay here and sleep or go back to your own room.” It was an ultimatum that both Bellatrix and the Dark Lord knew Delphi wouldn’t refuse. She wanted to be with her parents far more that she was excited for the morning.

“I’ll stay here Daddy.” Delphi decided. The Dark Lord nodded, and lay back down.

“Lovely,” Bellatrix said, opening her arms out and allowing Delphi to cuddle up close to her, which she did. They curled up together, slowly slipping into sleep, and Bellatrix couldn’t think of a way that she would rather be spending her morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw something nice after all that blood last chapter :)
> 
> I hope this works this time because the archive messed me up with the date posting when I added this chapter earlier.


	9. Ring

Sunset in Luxor was gorgeous. The sky was on fire, burnt orange, vibrant purples, yellows so bright that Bellatrix had to squint as she looked at it. She had her hand placed on her eyebrows, blocking it from her eyes. The Nile was orange, and the sun reflected up from the calm waters to Bellatrix, standing on the balcony at their hotel room. Her black silk dress wafted around her gently in the breeze. 

They’d been in the city a week. Because it was March it was actually a pleasant temperature, not too hot, not too cold. Bellatrix had never been to Egypt before and the Dark Lord had. He had taken it upon himself to show her the sights he’d seen when he’d been there as a young man.

They had done all the typical touristy things. Bellatrix would once have been a little embarrassed. She would have wanted to go off the beaten track and explore all the more obscure places. But she wasn’t up for an adventure, she just wanted to have a good time with the Dark Lord.

They saw the ancient stuff. At the temple of Hatshepsut, under the towering golden sandstone and golden sun the Dark Lord had commented that they should have something as grand built back in Britain. Bellatrix had agreed and they had discussed where they would put it. They settled on York because the city was built out of stone to begin with and there were quarries nearby. As they had strolled past the enormous statues of Hatshepsut herself, Bellatrix had laughed, picturing giant statues of the Dark Lord towering down at people. She’d teased him, asking how he would like his image carved. He had also found it funny and had decided that he was going to skip on the statues of him. Instead, they would have snakes wrapped around the pillars. 

The Valley of the Kings was particularly amazing. They transfigured their features and explored, away from the bigger tourist groups. They had a picnic atop of Tutankhamun’s tomb, disillusioned so that the crowds could not see them. They’d laid there, on a black picnic mat, Bellatrix’s head resting on his lap, his hands gently stroking through her hair. The Dark Lord had told her the story of how the muggles had found the tomb. Apparently, he’d had a book about it when he was a child, in that terrible orphanage, and he had all the facts about the dig memorised. Bellatrix laughed at how the muggles had freaked out over the ‘curse’ the tomb had. She wondered if they could actually cast a curse on a place that strong.

They had also gone out to see the wizarding community in Luxor.

Bellatrix had hardly been around so many people in years. Back home, people didn’t really go out like they used to. Diagon Alley was quite gloomy now, people only venturing out when they absolutely had to, and nobody stopped to talk or meet with friends. She supposed that was probably their fault, and she also supposed that it would go back to how it was at some point in the near future, but it really was dreary.

Luxor was not like that – the market reminded her of Diagon Alley when she was a young child. It was bustling, full of people and food and music, stalls of everything you could ever think of and more. They bought Delphi her snake, as well as lots of potion ingredients and stupid nick-knacks just because she wanted it. Did this include a very tacky king Tut magnet? Yes, it did, and Bellatrix both loved it and hated it at the same time.

It wasn’t only the market though. There was a flourishing dark magic community in Luxor, centred around the massive library of dark magical books hidden within the temple at Karnak. Some of the most ancient texts had been saved from the great library at Alexandria, before it had burned. It was the biggest library of dark magical texts in the world, and much to the dismay of a lot of the world wizarding community, the Egyptian ministry would not shut it down. Free speech they said, and Bellatrix had to agree. They had spent almost two full days curled up in there, taking notes of more obscure dark magic that the Dark Lord wanted to keep note of.

Bellatrix had been having a great time, really. All the misery and miscommunications of the last few months were out of mind for her. She had been wonderfully happy. Yet, at the back of her mind there was still a niggling sense of doubt. He still hadn’t explained himself. Bellatrix still wasn’t sure why any of this had to happen to begin with: she didn’t know why he had been ignoring her. Why had he been snapping at her for all that time? She had been enjoying herself immensely, but she had a terrible feeling that he was going to suddenly change back to that snippishness on without warning. He had not, but the worry was still there.

Now they were in the hotel room, getting ready for dinner. Bellatrix was ready to go, but the Dark Lord was still in the shower. The desert wind blew her hair around her head gently. She had gotten changed since they’d been out earlier and was in a very flowy, elegant, silk dress, tried with a ribbon at her waist, that wafted in the wind as she stood there. A glass of wine in hand, she leant on the balcony edge, sipping and watching the river. She watched the boats, moving slowly in the flat water. 

From behind her, Bellatrix listened to the Dark Lord turn the water off. She listened to him mutter a drying charm, the click as the bathroom door opened and shut again. Turning, Bellatrix leant on one elbow and watched him with a smile. He had a towel wrapped around his waist, walking from the bathroom to the wardrobe. In the bright sunset, she admired the lines of his body created by the shadows.

“You’re sunburned.” Bellatrix said, softly, seeing the redness and soreness on the top of his ears and along his neck. His arms were sunburned a little too, but not as badly as his head. He hadn’t put any sun protection on, and had handwaved Bellatrix’s suggestion that he did so. It looked like he would regret that now.

“So are you.” He said, gesturing to the painful spots on the backs of her calves, where she had forgotten to put sun protection on. Bellatrix nodded, with a little laugh. It wasn’t like she could deny it. She turned back to the river and listened to the soft sound of fabric over skin as the Dark Lord got dressed. She jumped slightly as he put his hands on her shoulders. He really could move silently when he wanted to. “The sun suits you, it’s not good for my skin.”

“You always look gorgeous, my lord.” Bellatrix murmured, looking up at him lovingly.

“Not when my skins peeling I don’t.” He countered, dryly. He was in a pretty good mood. 

“Eh, snake skin.” Bellatrix said with a shrug, and a laugh. She reached up and kissed him. For a few moments they stood there together, him standing a behind her, and Bellatrix pulling his face down to her level. 

“It’s not going to come off in one big piece.” He said as he pulled away from her, with a little huff of a laugh. Bellatrix swivelled around, putting her hands on his chest, looking up at him pupils dilated.

“I would be really impressed if you managed to do that.” She said against his lips, and he laughed.

“So would I, honestly.” He kissed her again, and Bellatrix practically purred against him.

“I must ask you something, my lord.” Bellatrix said. In that moment she had made her decision. She would ask him now - whilst he was in a good mood. 

“Hm?”

“Have you been angry with me?” She said, hoping that this wouldn’t ruin everything. But dammit, they needed to have this conversation. They needed to have a lot of conversations, but this one first. He stepped back a little, his eyes narrowing.

“Not recently,” He said, slowly, “why do you ask?”

“I thought that you were angry with me when we wouldn’t speak for weeks. I know it’s silly but please, I need to know why - ”

“I wasn’t angry with you Bella.” He said, resoundingly, the hands on her shoulders tightening a little bit. Bellatrix wasn’t sure whether he was annoyed or if it was an attempt to be reassuring. There was a look on his face that Bellatrix saw, like he was deciding whether or not to tell her something. She pressed on.

“Then why did you…?”

“Look,” He sighed and took her by the arm, pulling her inside the room. “now this doesn’t leave this room, got it? Because if it does, I **will** be angry with you.” Bellatrix nodded quickly, looking wide eyed at him. He sighed.

He motioned for her to take a seat on the chaise longue in the middle of the room. She did so.

“Do you remember Helga Hufflepuff’s goblet that I gave you to put in your vault?” He asked, which surprised Bellatrix.

“Yes, of course!” She didn’t know why that was relevant. “It was a horcrux.” She said, quieter. An object in which there was a fragment of soul in order to become immortal – they’d always been interesting, but not something she’d thought about in great detail. It was just an obscure bit of dark magic knowledge she could use in trivia, that was, until he’d told her about the one he had made.

“Indeed, it was." He saw the look of awe on her face. “Yes, I know I’m brilliant, but listen.” The egotistic, self-congratulatory tone was not lost on her, but in that moment, she wasn’t sure that she’d ever loved him more. “Dumbledore knew about them, he worked it out…”

“Them?”

He had only ever admitted to Bellatrix to making one, the one she kept in her vault. She had thought that maybe he had other one because she hadn’t heard of one’s appearance shifting so dramatically with only one horcrux at play. But, then again, she didn’t know much about horcruxes in general.

“I made seven.”

“SEVEN!” Bellatrix flew to her feet. She wasn’t sure why, it just sort of happened.

Seven? He’s split his soul seven times? You have to kill to make a horcrux – she knew he’d killed more than seven people but still…That’s a complicated ritual, one that she didn’t know a lot about but knew it was extremely painful. The magic it took to make seven…it was unbelievable!

“Yes, keep up.” He motioned for her to sit back down, and she did. “Your cousin destroyed one of them – Regulus not Sirius - ” He explained after a pause.

“Did _you_ kill Reg then?” She’d always suspected but she could never be sure. The thought had floated around her while she was in Azkaban. Mainly the thought, that the dementors caused, that whatever happened to Reg would happen to her. The Dark Lord’s face darkened as she asked, and that said more than he could with words.

“Yes. Anyway…”

“He was twenty-two.” She said before she could stop herself. Her poor, baby cousin. The skinny kid that was all elbows and knees and points. The explosion of black curls, like hers. The boy whose nose was buried in a book just as often as he was atop a broom. Quiet, sharp wit, Reg was someone you could look across a table at and you would know that you were thinking exactly the same thing. 

She’d been there when he was born, her mother had decided that – as a big strong ten-year-old – she was old enough to help in a home birth. She’d mainly just held Aunt Walburga’s hand, but she’d been there. She’d heard him cry for the first time. Maybe that had prepared her for battles in the future? The chaos, the screaming and the blood – she’d kept a cool head as a child and a cool head as an adult.

The Dark Lord rolled his eyes.

“And? Potter was seventeen, may we move on?”

“Sorry, yes.” She nodded, pushing the sadness down, and sitting up straighter.

“Anyway, Dumbledore must have figured out that I had them because Potter and his group went around destroying them over the course of the war.”

“Oh!” Bellatrix breathed, eyes wide, her hand against her mouth, “…they were in my vault….”

“Yes, I would not have been so angry with you for that if it was just a cup, would I?” Maybe, Bellatrix thought, but she didn’t say it out-loud. The Dark Lord shook his head, and Bellatrix could see the anger under his eyes, not directed at her. His upper lip curled into a snarl. “I’ll give it to Potter, he did it quite well. Nagini was one…the cup…the diadem of Ravenclaw…I lost all of them. He got through all of them. When the Longbottom boy killed poor Nagini I was mortal again for the first time since I was sixteen…”

“Oh Merlin!” She didn’t stand up – he had a look of caged, angry animal in his eyes that made her wary to touch him. But still, she was shocked. Disorientated really with all the information being thrown at her in such a short space of time. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Didn’t he trust her?

“For several reasons. Firstly, because it’s frankly none of your business what I do with my soul, Bella.”

Well, that stung, Bellatrix thought. She said nothing, instead casting her eyes downward. She heard him sigh and saw him sit down on the chair opposite her.

“And because your entire world was wrapped up with Delphi and the war effort. You were already so stressed out…after Azkaban…I wasn’t sure that you would be able to handle another stressor added on top of it.” He said it in a way that almost sounded concerned for her.

“My lord,” Bellatrix wasn’t sure how to respond to that. The idea that he would take her into consideration, even if she thought he should have done the opposite, had her eyes prickling a little. “I can’t say how much it means to me that you thought of me like that, but you could have told me!”

“Yes, perhaps it would have been better, but we cannot change the past.” He nodded, conceding. “I spent a while without any of them, because, well my soul was already deeply shattered, and more of it was already dead than still alive in my body.” Bellatrix squeaked in horror. The thought that he is already partially dead was horrifying to her. “But, um, that didn’t last very long.”

“I don’t suppose it did.” She said, thinking of how restless it would have made him not to be immortal after so long with that protection. She looked back up at him again. He shrugged, lazily, in a ‘you know me too well’ sort of movement.

“I made my first new one back in June.”

Well, that explained a lot.

“You started ignoring me in June.”

“I wasn’t trying to ignore you Bella, I am sorry about that. It was…after so many times, and so much of the soul gone…it was so much worse than it had ever been before.”

Bellatrix didn’t even want to think about how terrible it had been if he was admitting to it like that. She’s seen him claim that having fingernails ripped off didn’t hurt. She’s seen him with a gaping head wound in the first war, and him pretending that it wasn’t bad. She’s seen him tell Dolph he could walk of a nail through the foot. He saw the look on her face and continued.

“Normally, it would be three days of pain, worse than the crutiatus, and then it would be over. I felt stronger every time I’d made one before. This time the days were longer, it was a week or more each time, and then it wouldn’t go away. There was a burning in my chest all the time – like really bad heartburn – and nothing I could do would make it lessen. Then, every so often it would feel like an explosion inside my head. Like a muggle gunshot going off right next to my ears, but it was inside. It took at least a month each time before I would feel normal again.”

“How many times have you done it since June?” She asked, eyes narrowing, not certain that she wanted to know the answer to that question.

“Three times.” He sighed.

“WHY?!” Bellatrix cried out. Why on earth?! Why would he willingly do that to himself. She could understand doing it once, just for the immortality, but after seeing how terrible it was, and having one’s life secured, why would he continue?

“Because I couldn’t be mortal again Bella! Mortality is for other people, and I refuse to die.”

“You only needed one of them to do that, though.”

“Failsafe, Bella. If one fails, I still have more.” He said, as if it was the most sensible thing in the world to think. It was not, in Bellatrix’s opinion, and she was certain most people would agree with her. The Dark Lord sat further back in the chair and crossed his legs, resting one foot on the opposite knee. “Security comes from pain,” He continued, “but I could not be seen in public when I was like that. Nobody could know, firstly, how I was staying alive and, secondly, what it looked like to see me weak. Perhaps I should have warned you, Bella, but that is why. I wasn’t ignoring you; I was not angry with you – I was making sure my reign was secured.”

“If you’d told me,” Bellatrix said, making sure her point – that he should actually tell her things when he needed help – was well made, “I could have helped you through the pain. Maybe I could have found something that would help.” She sat further forward in her chair, leaning towards him, her elbows resting on her knees, holding up her head.

“Well, I know better for next time.” He said flippantly.

_“Don’t do it again!”_

“You’ve seen how I’ve escaped death before; I need them so I can do it again if it come to that.” Bellatrix was sure that he didn’t mean to show it, but she saw the fear in his eyes then. The sheer unadulterated fear of non-existence. Everyone feared death, Bellatrix had woken up in cold sweats many a time thinking about her own, but nobody feared death more than him.

She got up, and crossed the few steps it took for her to be standing before his chair. She sunk to her knees and placed a hand gently on his knee.

“Hopefully you’ll never need to. I’d give my life to stop that from happening again.” Bellatrix said, quite truthfully.

“No, no you won’t.” The Dark Lord said, darkly, the cogs clearly whirling in his mind. Bellatrix didn’t notice that though, she was insistent, trying to prove her loyalty once again.

“I would! I would die thousands of painful deaths for you, my lord!”

“I know you would. But I don’t want you to.” He sat up, putting both legs on the ground, but taking Bellatrix’s hand in his own as he did so. “In fact, I command you not to do that.”

“Death comes for everyone,” She said, “besides you.” She added quickly. “It will come for me; it will come for Delphi…”

“No, it won’t. I won’t let it happen…Bella, you truly are my best lieutenant, most loyal…I will never find anyone as loyal as you. It just won’t happen. So no, death will not come for you.” He paused. “Delphi is frankly perfect, which honestly I didn’t think I’d say. I won’t get her to make a horcrux till she’s old enough, but I will get her to make one. At least one.”

“You’re a good father you know.” Bellatrix couldn’t think of another parent who would give their child the gift of immortality. The Dark Lord, to her surprise, shook his head.

“I probably should spend more time with her to be called a good father.”

“You can do that.”

“I will.” He nodded. “But while we’re here, I think you should make a horcrux.”

“What? Now?” Really? Bellatrix wasn’t sure she believed him. Was he actually offering to help her…immortality…oh… Bellatrix’s eyes grew wide. Her mind was filled with images of what she could do, say, four-hundred years from now, still the best lieutenant at the Dark Lord’s side.

“We have time.” He said, and it was true, they did.

“Who would I kill?” She breathed.

Bellatrix wasn’t thinking straight, mind just filled with the pros and cons of living forever. Narcissa would die, as would Draco and Rabastian. But, Delphi would not. The Dark Lord would not. She would have all the time in the world to learn, improve…

“I don’t know, someone.”

“Helpful.” She said dryly, and he raised an eyebrow. “Alright. Let’s do it. I need something to put my soul in…” She looked around, hoping she would see something and it would just feel right.

“How about your ring?”

Her ring? She looked down; it was on her hand. The one that she’d managed to keep. Her wedding ring had been taken before she’d been thrown into Azkaban. This one was one the Dark Lord had given her. It had been a birthday present, for her twenty-eighth. It was simple – a silver band, about half an inch thick, with the dark mark engraved on the inside. At the time, it was like that so she could wear it in public and still know it was there. A sign of loyalty, even more than her own dark mark. A smaller, more hidden one. If she wore it for too long, there would be an indent of the mark on her finger.

Yes, she decided. This would be a perfect horcrux. With a smirk, Bellatrix nodded and the Dark Lord smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know how holidays can bring out the best in couples? Also sometimes the worst? Which one of those is splitting your soul really? 
> 
> The working title for this chapter was "Egypt is nice, so is a healthy, communicative relationship" by the way.


	10. Soul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow splitting your soul is couple goals, also the end. TW for mentions of comedic animal abuse.
> 
> (Sorry this is up later than usual, I had a lot of homework to finish this weekend)

It was a few hours later. The night had settled in, and the wind from the desert was cold.

“Are you ready?” The Dark Lord asked, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows.

Bellatrix couldn’t really describe what it was she was feeling. Excitement? Yes. Anticipation? Yes. A little bit of anxiety over what could go wrong? Yes. But there was also an icy dread sitting in her gut. It was like her soul was crying out for her not to do it. She was disgusted with the reaction of her body, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t there.

“This is going to hurt, isn’t it?” She asked.

On the floor at the Dark Lord’s feet, the victim they had taken was struggling. They had still gone to dinner. The poor man they had selected for Bellatrix to kill had been their waiter. His hands and feet were bound together, and a gag had been shoved into his mouth. He screamed and cried, banging his feet on the floorboards as he did so. The Dark Lord just rolled his eyes.

“Oh shush, we’ll get to you in a minute.” He turned back to Bellatrix. “Yes. Terribly. Ready?”

“Could this kill me?”

“Maybe,” he shrugged, “but I’ve done it ten times now and I’m not dead, so you’ll probably be fine.”

“Okay.” She nodded. That was fair – what could the odds be if he’d done it so many times without dying. Especially if he had done it as a teenager!

The Dark Lord used the imperious curse to force the poor waiter to get to his feet, and stand before Bellatrix. He shook terribly. Tears poured from his eyes. Neither Bellatrix or the Dark Lord felt any pity for him.

“Right, remember the spell?”

“Yes of course!”

“Do it then, let’s get on with it!” The Dark Lord pushed, impatience in his voice.

“Avada kedavra!” The green light filled the room, and the waiter fell down hard. His body crashed through the glass coffee table. Shards of crystal from the table went everywhere, with flecks of blood from his chest where it landed. The blood was an afterthought. It had not hurt him. He was dead before the impact.

“Good,” the Dark Lord nodded. He levitated the body to be directly before her. “now, begin.”

Bellatrix breathed in, taking one last lung-full of air with a complete soul. Her hands shook a little, she bit the inside of her mouth sharply. The pause was only for a moment. She raised her wand, and began.

“ _Victus est anima mea. Fortior me. Nam omne aeternum_.” She had to repeat the chant seven times. Her voice sounded much stronger than she felt.

The pain started in her chest. A terrible taring ripped through her. She felt as though she had been struck by lightning, had acid dumped on her, was held under the crutiatus curse and had been stabbed through the lung all at once. It was so painful that she couldn’t even bring herself to scream. Her vision spun. Strange colours and shapes pirouetted across her sight. She didn’t know whether her eyes were open or they were shut.

She felt herself sinking to the ground; the hardwood of the floor bruising her badly. She felt strong arms catch her. One arm under her knees, the other under her shoulders, she felt herself be lifted. Had the pain been any lesser, her heart would have soared to be held like this, but nothing else could break through the smog that had descended upon her.

Where her ring still sat upon her hand felt like a brand, burning itself into her skin as a farmer brands a heifer. And yet, all the while, Bellatrix could not scream.

Time passed. Bellatrix distantly felt hunger and thirst, but compared to the pain that roared like dragonfire through the rest of her nerves, it was forgettable. Conscious and unconscious blended together. What was real and what was the magic infiltrating her brain was completely indistinguishable. It was hell: hell itself.

She had no idea how long she was like that, but when her eyes reopened properly, it was light outside, bright as mornings should be. Her body felt terribly heavy – just opening her eyes felt like rolling a boulder up a hill.

The room looked almost luminescent to her eyes, that were no longer used to light. The white of the curtains blowing in the breeze from the open window, the warm sands and cool water of the river looking so tempting beyond them, the bowl of something steaming on the table and a glass of water next to it: it all looked aethereal.

Blinking slowly, she heard the murmuring of the Dark Lord talking to someone at the window. He was speaking in parseltongue. – and even in her weakened state Bellatrix found herself understanding. It was small talk. He was asking about the weather, and whether a storm would come in. The snake, for she was sure it was a snake based on how strange they sounded, thought that the tempest was imminent. She smiled – using considerable strength to do so. She wasn’t sure why she was so worried about how difficult parseltongue would be to learn. It had just taken practise.

“…my lord…” Bellatrix breathed. She recognised the word for ‘goodbye’ and the window shutting. She heard him stride towards her and she tried to move on the bed. She could not. Her body was just so tired.

He too looked aethereal in her eyes. He seemed to glow in the warm sunlight the window provided. He was in simple, loose robes, and sat comfortably.

“Bella!” She knew her eyes were not playing tricks on her as she saw his eyes light up. He was pleased to see her. He practically jumped out of his chair and hurried over to her.

“…water…water…I need some water…” Her tongue was completely dry, as was her mouth. It felt like there wasn’t a single drop of water in her entire body.

“Yes, yes of course.” He charmed the glass to float over from the table to his hand.

The glass was pressed to her lips, a little rougher than he intended. It seemed he was eager to see her awake once more. Some water spilled out onto her face, and Bellatrix coughed a little. It was cold on her skin. Icy, in fact. After so long with pain as her only sensation, the cold was wonderful. She laughed through the cough.

“Sorry – that’s a bit too much isn’t it?”

“Maybe – ” She coughed and spluttered, “just a little bit.” She laughed, and he did too.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, looking genuinely concerned. He sat on the bed next to her.

“Empty.” Supremely. Her chest felt empty. Her stomach felt empty. She’d been dehydrated to the max. But it didn’t feel bad, necessarily. It was an odd feeling, one that she was sure she could get used to.

“Strong empty?”

“Yes, like…like…oh I don’t know…good, but I can’t describe it.”

“I know what you mean. Can you try to sit up?” He pulled some pillows up behind her and Bellatrix took the water in her own hands as she sat up.

“What day is it?”

“Friday – it’s been three days.”

“Oh, just like you said.”

“Well, I do have experience.” His eyes looked to her hands, and his face grew serious once more. He gestured with his head. “The ring, do you want me to hide it?”

It was warm against her hand, she realised then. It was a comforting feeling – having her soul right there. Bellatrix knew the Dark Lord had kept his hidden but she also knew that he’d had them all destroyed by some teenagers lead by a hunch from Dumbledore.

“I think I want to keep wearing it.” Bellatrix decided. “I will always know where it is if I keep it on.”

“Ah a good idea. Maybe don’t wear it in battle through.” The Dark Lord said, nodding.

“No, that seems like a bad idea.” Bellatrix said with a small laugh. She had a bit more self-preservation than that. Brown eyes met red, and Bellatrix’s stomach dropped. She hadn’t even considered what the horcrux would do to her appearance before doing it. Frankly she would prefer immortality to looking beautiful, she could fix the beauty part later, the ‘living forever’ started now. But in that moment, Bellatrix found herself wondering whenever she would be able to. Could she fix it? She liked the Dark Lord’s look now, but it wasn’t what she wanted for herself.

“What’s the damage?” She asked. She needed to know. The Dark Lord looked at her unreadably for a moment.

“There is no damage.” He said, resoundingly.

“What’s the damage to my face?” Bellatrix clarified, thinking that he had misunderstood her.

“Bella, there is no damage.”

To prove his point, the Dark Lord conjured a mirror to ease her concern. It floated before her. A face with bright, dark eyes stared back at her. Her thin lips were open a little, pink and healthy looking. Her cheeks were flushed from the heat. She looked good, better than she had before. It wasn’t that she looked younger, she looked her age, but the pain and frustration of the years she’d spent in Azkaban had melted away. Bellatrix looked the way she would have done at fifty if she’d never been there. She was taken aback.

Her hair fell in dark waves framing her face, extenuating the high cheekbones and prominent jaw that marked her face and the faces of all the House of Black. Her hair was different though. There was a substantial amount of white in it. Not grey, not streaky, it was a pure white chunk of hair running past her left ear.

“When I made my first one, it was the same.” The Dark Lord sat down on the bed next to her, as she dragged her hands through the white chunk. It was softer than the rest of her hair. “I looked even more handsome than I had looked beforehand, and I was a very good-looking person in my youth. Healthier, but with aged hair.” He shrugged. “It’s strange isn’t it?” Bellatrix nodded, amazed. “Strange, but I wouldn’t call it damage, would you?”

“No, no certainly not.” Bellatrix breathed, looking at herself in the mirror for a moment. She looked up at him, sharply, and grinned. “I adore you; you know.”

“Yes, I do.” The Dark Lord smiled down at her warmly. He leant down to her, and kissed her quite gently. Bellatrix raked her hands over his head, and grinned into the kiss. She hadn’t felt this wonderful in years. Decades, maybe. Before the Azkaban incident probably. After a moment of bliss, the Dark Lord pulled back. “Are you hungry?” He asked.

“Famished.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was yet another three days before they returned home. Bellatrix had felt better after eating on the first day, so they had decided to just continue their holiday as if nothing had happened. Bellatrix had dyed her hair again – she wasn’t ready for it to be white – and had soaked up the sun. Frankly, she wasn’t sure she’d ever been as tanned. Tanned perhaps was the wrong word – burnt turning into a tan was probably more accurate. The tops of her ears were very sore. Neither of them were forgetful people, but when it came to sun protection, they had better things to do.

They did not immediately go to pick Delphini up when they got back from Egypt. They actually went to get brunch first, and (because it was Sunday and about noon) they got mimosas along with their meals. The other people in the restaurant were doing pretty well at pretending they didn’t see the two most dangerous people in the country drinking champagne and orange juice cocktails in the bay window, overlooking the Cornish countryside.

However, the holiday had to end. The Dark Lord had a meeting with Minister Yaxley that afternoon. Bellatrix had agreed to train some new recruits the next day, and needed to work on some teaching materials. And, Rabastian needed to be relieved of his post with Delphi.

“Do you want to come and get Delphi with me, my lord, or do you need to get back?” Bellatrix asked, folding up her napkin and downing the last dregs of her mimosa.

“I’m going to avoid going back to that office for as long as possible.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Obviously. And I want to give her the snake.” He gestured to the animal carrier he had at his feet. The snake was sleeping. It was quite pretty, in Bellatrix’s opinion anyway (the Dark Lord loved all snakes so he was much easier to please on that front). It was stripy: very dark and light brown – almost gold – stripes decorated the serpent. Its eyes were black. It’s forked tongue pink. Adorable, for a snake anyway. 

They apparated to the end of the driveway to Lestrange house. It was a medieval building. It was menacing, squat and moated with a large courtyard in the centre. The stone was a warm grey, the slates cold. Ivy wrapped its way around the building. It was gorgeous. Rabastian had needed to get it repaired when they had returned from Azkaban but he had done it very well. It was 700 years old – 14 years empty wouldn’t damage it as much as it had done its inhabitants. It was back to its glory days.

Bellatrix had lived there for years, from 1970 till 1981. She found herself grinning as she made her way up the driveway. She had good memories there. The Dark Lord had liked this house too, she remembered. He had told her once that it's macarbeness mixed with its warmth had reminded him of her. She'd taken in as a great compliment at the time. She'd wanted the house, but after Dolph had died it had gone to Rabastian. Speaking of him, she saw her brother-in-law's head over the bushes. 

He was with Delphi – playing croquet. They were quite far away, so Delphi was just a dot of dark hair and white dress in Bellatrix’s eyes. Still, she saw that Delphi had a green mallet, and all the rules of the croquet had gone out of the window. She was using the croquet mallet as a sword, smacking a tree. Rabastian was ignoring her, instead hitting the ball through the croquet hoop he was aiming for.

“MUMMY!” Delphi spotted her, dropped her mallet, and sprinted in her direction. She had no shoes on but she seemed unbothered by the stones she ran onto. Rabastian looked terrified for a moment, the kid was sprinting away from him. He turned about to run after her before he saw Bellatrix and the Dark Lord. From far away, Bellatrix saw the sigh of relief.

“Shit – you look good Bellatrix – I need to go to Egypt if this is the result.” Rabastian said, as he jogged up towards them, astonished, looking her up and down. Then, realising himself, he apologised for his language before the Dark Lord. He didn’t care, he actually seemed quite pleased that someone had noticed the different the horcruxes had made. Proud. He looked proud.

“The desert air is good for me.” Bellatrix lied flippantly. Delphi reached her then.

Delphi sprang up into Bellatrix’s arms and wrapped herself around her, hugging her mother tightly. The force with which the little girl jumped into her arms winded Bellatrix a little bit, but she grinned into Delphi’s hair.

“Hello darling, how are you?” Bellatrix laughed, moving Delphi around so that she was easier to hold.

“I can play Silent night on the piano!” She exclaimed excitedly.

“Really? Why? It’s not Christmas.”

“’Cos I like it.” Delphi said, as if it was obvious. “And it _will be_ Christmas again soon.”

“Fair enough.” Bellatrix shrugged. What better reason is there to do something than just because you want to?

“Hello Daddy.” Delphi waved. He did not wave back, just nodded to her.

“Hello Delphini, have you been good?”

“No.”

“Why not?” The Dark Lord laughed. Rabastian looked very amused – so she couldn’t have been too naughty.

“Got into a fight with a duck.” Delphi said, very seriously. Bellatrix couldn’t help but laugh.

“She did.” Rabastian confirmed. “But it was a very grumpy duck, so I don’t blame her.”

“Did you win?” The Dark Lord asked, in the same tone he used with the Deatheaters. Delphi wasn’t scared though. She gave a sort of half shrug.

“It bit me and I kicked it back into the moat. Then I ran away.” The image of that happening was hilarious to Bellatrix, and she could absolutely see it happening. Squawking and feathers everywhere, Delphi screaming at the bird. The bird screaming back. 

“A strategic retreat I’d say there, rather than running away.” Bellatrix said, reframing the situation more positively. Delphi nodded, but there was a look on her face Bellatrix hadn’t seen before. She was looking at her, like it was the first time she’d seen her.

“Are you okay mummy – you look different.”

“Do I?” Bellatrix asked, slyly. “How so?” Behind her, Bellatrix could feel the Dark Lord smirking.

“I dunno.” Of course she wouldn’t – she had no idea what a horcrux was. Bellatrix wasn’t even sure whether Delphi had a concept of what a soul was. How can a four-year-old have a concept of something as big as that?

“Don’t know, dear.” Bellatrix corrected her. Delphi rolled her eyes. 

“Eh – you seem different.”

“Is that a problem?” Bellatrix asked, with raised eyebrows.

“No.” Delphi shook her head, cheerfully, and wrapped her arms around her mother’s neck and hugged her tightly. “Can we get fish and chips for dinner?” She asked the question in parseltongue, looking towards her father.

“Yes, we’ll go to Whitby and get some good ones, shall we?” Bellatrix said, and Delphi’s mouth dropped open.

“How?!”

Bellatrix just winked.

“Thank you Rabastian – I’ll get you a bottle of sherry.” She turned her attention to her brother-in-law. Rabastian grinned widely and put his hands into his cloak’s pockets.

“You can have next week off, Lestrange.” The Dark Lord added, and Rabastian cheered. 

“Thank you, my lord, very gracious.” Rabastian bowed.

“Mummy – how did you do that?” Delphi asked, ignoring the others. 

“Do what darling?”

“Know what I said.”

“Magic.” Bellatrix just laughed, teasing her. She was right, in a way. Learning is magic afterall. Delphi scowled. 

“That sounds like bollocks mum.” And it was, but it was not appropriate for her to say that.

“That is a bad word for little girls to say.”

“I’m not that little.” Delphi grumbled.

“Yes, you are. We’ve got your snake for you though Delphi.” Bellatrix gestured to the pet carried at her feet. Delphi wriggled out of her arms immediately, jumping down to the floor to peer in at the snake. She squealed loudly, and started trying to get the serpent’s attention, waving at her and hissing softly. She was saying hello, very politely, and asking her name. Apparently the snake didn’t have one, and Delphi promised to give her one later.

Bellatrix smiled. The warm sun on her face, the people she loved around her, the fear she’d been holding inside her for months disappearing more and more every second: she couldn’t think of a time she’d been happier. She looked up, meeting the Dark Lord’s eyes for a moment. Bellatrix sighed. Perhaps she wasn't completely content. Perhaps there were still problems in her life. Perhaps she and the Dark Lord still had things to sort out between them, but in that moment, Bellatrix didn't care. She was happy. Happy for the first time in months, and what could possibly be more precious than that? 

** The End **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, so romantic! They are just so terrible and I love writing them. :D
> 
> So yeah, that's the end of this little romp. I really enjoyed writing this, hope you enjoyed reading it. It's been a fun distraction from my *quarantine exams* which just suck so much. 
> 
> So, thanks for giving me your time :D


End file.
